


War For The Dawn

by FrostWyrm96



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Facebook, Facebook - Group, RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:37:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostWyrm96/pseuds/FrostWyrm96
Summary: This fanfic is dedicated for the group in Facebook called "Fans beyond the Wall - Game of Thrones". This is for role-playing only and it includes Real-Life People names and it is





	1. David I [Matters of Westeros]

**Author's Note:**

> I have to again warn you that this fanfic includes real-life people names and it is strictly for the facebook fangroup called "Fans Beyond The Wall - Game of Thrones". This is only for our role-playing that I have in mind and I have permissions from the admins of the group, though any of you wants to be relate to anyone must contact me first.

"Lord Basit Tyrell has declared war on House Lannister, Your Grace." said Hand of the King Lady Rox.

The Small Council had its meeting again since yesterday with the political issues going on about in Westeros. House Lannister declared war on House Tyrell when a raiding party had raided southern parts of the westerlands. It was said that it was Lord Gaurav Hightower who was given the command from Lord Basit Tyrell to raid. Now, Lord Alexius Lannister, the firstborn and only child of Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa Lannister, was mustering his host and marching down the ocean road.

King David response, "Send word to Lord Lannister and Lord Tyrell to lay down their arms. We cannot afford to plunge Westeros into another war like War of the Houses." to his Hand, Lady Rox Dayne.

She nodded. "At once, Your Grace, but I fear it is already too late." she said. "Master of Whisperers, tell our King."

"Yesterday, I received a letter from Crakehall that Lord Alexius and his massive host of seventy-thousand bannermen with him were marching down to Highgarden. Lord Basit responsed with raising his bannermen to about ninety-thousand and is blocking the road." started Lady Rachel, "I believe the Lannister host is a few hours away from meeting the Tyrell host as of now." The Lady of Whisperers said, concerned.

The King shook his head, unbelieving. "Who answers House Lannisters call?"

"Lady Tam Lefford, Lady Caitlin Clegane, Lord Jorn Westerling, Lord Iman Marbrand and many more, Your Grace. Almost every lord and lady answered to Lord Alexius' host."

 "And?" asked Queen Annie to the Small Council.

Lady Rachel continued. "And House Stark is sending their army down south to help the Lannisters. House Martell is gathering their army as well to help the Tyrells."

"Another full-scale war!" roared Ser Luis Chavez, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. "War of the Houses ended a few months ago and now this! Unbelievable!" he exclaimed. 

David Stark could only agree to his loyal Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. This had turned to another full-scale war with Lady Isabella Stark sending her army to support House Lannister. Prince Abhishek Martell was also sending his own to Highgarden to support the Tyrells. The Martells still wanted their vengeance over the late Prince Oberyn. This was a pointless war, and yet, it had already begun.

"We have to stop the Lannisters and the Tyrells from killing each other." King David announced to his Small Council. "Lord Akshay, can you send word to Lady Brittany Baratheon of Storm's End to summon her army to King's Landing?" he asked desperately to the former Lord of the Stormlands, now appointed Master of Ship.

He nodded. "I can, with thirty-five thousand bannermen. I will send word to her as soon as I can. Should I also call the royal fleet, Your Grace?"

"The Lannister fleet is larger than ours."

"The Redwyne fleet is larger than the Lannister's." replied Lord Akshay. "With the Royal fleet and the Redwyne fleet combined, they are forced to comply."

"Have you forgotten the alliance between House Greyjoy and House Lannister, Lord Alshay?" said Lady Rox. "They have the largest and strongest fleet with any of ours combined, the Lannister fleet is ranked second only to the Greyjoys."

"The Greyjoys will only want to gain their own benefits with this  _alliance_ , you called." David remembered what caused the Greyjoys and the Lannisters to make an alliance. "Lord Alexius and his fleet made a huge invasion in the Iron Islands five months ago and almost put everyone to the sword. He is ruthless like his grandfather Tywin."

 "He can be reasonable too, if you are willing to confront him. He may have his grandfather's mind in strategy but he has his own mind in tactic. He also has his mother's compassion and mercy."

"Who remains neutral so far?" asked Queen Annie Stark. 

"The Arryns of the Vale," said the King's Advisor, Lady Hayley. "They play a huge role in attacking the eastern part of the Riverlands and the Battle of the Twins. You know the outcome."

Andres Malla responded. "Arryn defeat." he said. "It was their first and last battle during the War of the Houses."

The Master of Ship shook his head dubiously. "It wasn't their last, Lord Andres. You should know this better than I do. After the Tully's victory at the Twins, the Arryns fled back, regrouped and raised more levies and march down south against House Stark of King's Landing. Lord Stefan Arryn won at Maidenpool."

The lands that were most ravaged in Westeros during the War of the Houses were in the Westerlands, the Crownlands, the Reach and the Riverlands. The Second Siege of Pyke was a significant victory for the Lannisters. A cold and bittersweet revenge for what happens when the Greyjoys sack Lannisport for the second time. Lord Alexius had installed Lady Sofie Greyjoy as the Lady of the Iron Islands and the Lady Reaper of Pyke. After that, Alexius went on his campaign down south against the Tyrells, winning him four battles at Old Oak, Goldengrove, Bitterbridge and Highgarden. Lord Basit Tyrell only won him at his ambush against the Lannisters smaller host at Horn Hill but that wasn't a significant loss to the Lannisters. When the Tullys won their victories at the Twins, they marched their host down to the Golden Tooth and sieged House Lefford, which subsequently made Alexius and his host march back to the Westerlands all on horseback and defeat the Tullys at Golden Tooth. David remembered the day he was defeated at Maidenpool. David remembered that day, the Siege of Maidenpool. What a devastating defeat for House Stark of King's Landing. David and Annie lost about twenty-thousand bannermen that single day to Lord Stefan Arryn of the Vale. Their Knights of the Vale were quick and relentless.

War of the Houses, or War of the Great Houses, was a complete all-out-full-scale war in Westeros. When House Greyjoy sent vast caravels and war galleys to the coasts of the North, the Westerlands and the Reach. The Greyjoys did it for their own benefit. They sacked Lannisport for the second time and Oldtown for the first time. In response to that, House Lannister, House Stark and House Tyrell declared war on House Greyjoy. Preparing their fleet in Lannisport, the Arbor and White Harbor. Simultaneously, Lord Akshay Baratheon of Storm's End declared war on Lord Roshan Targaryen of Dragonstone for the rightful Baratheon claim on that fortress. House Tully declared war on House Lannister for the death of the Blackfish and the Red Wedding orchestrated by Lord Alexius' grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister. House Stark declared war on House Lannister as well for the Red Wedding, but also on House Frey, which forced Lord Daniel Tully and Lord Mbusiseni Frey to declare war on House Stark. Lord Stefan Arryn saw the political situation of Westeros and too, declared war on every of the Great Houses.

Lord Prakash Stark, the Warden of the North, and Lady Isabella Stark, the Lady of Winterfell gathered their host of forty-five thousand bannermen down south for their revenge. After the victory of House Tully against the Arryns at the Twins and with the Stark's host going south through the kingsroad, House Tully quickly mounted their bannermen on horseback and attacked the rear of the Stark's host and made Lord Prakash and Lady Isabella Stark with their host of forty-thousand bannermen move up to Moat Cailin, leaving their five thousand lancers to screen their retreat. They remained at Moat Cailin for the rest of the duration of the War of the Houses. With their victory at the kingsroad against the Starks and with the Arryns fled back to the Vale, Lord Daniel Tully was more confident to invade the Westerlands with Lord Lannister and his host campaigning against the Tyrells in the Reach. Lord Tully marched from the Twins, to Riverrun then to Golden Tooth, besieging the castle. Lord Jorn Westerling and Lady Tam Lefford were at Lannisport with their small host of eight thousand, all riders. Receiving the news, Lord Lannister marched back up to Lannisport and joined with Lord Jorn and Lady Tam at Oxcross with all their bannermen on horseback and flanked and crushed the Tully forces at Golden Tooth, leaving no survivors behind.

At the Stormlands and the Crownlands, Lord Akshay and Lady Brittany and their host clashed against Lord Roshan Targaryen at Stonedance when the Targaryens landed and put Sharp Point to the torch. The victory was given to the Targaryens when the reinforcements from Dragonstone landed nearby at the coast and smashed the Baratheons' rear lines. House Baratheon of Storm's End lost about eight thousand that day but they managed to keep most of their host intact when they retreated to Haystack Hall. Again, they retreated to Castle Bronzegate with their host and set up some lancers and shock cavalries in the Kingswood. Lord Roshan Targaryen laid waste to Haystack Hall and proceed to siege Castle Bronzegate with his mighty Targaryen army. What the Targaryens took by surprise was when Lord Akshay led the cavalry hidden within the Kingswood and striked through the heart of Lord Roshan's army. Dismayed and shattered, the Targaryens fell back with the remaining forces to Dragonstone, accepting defeat. 

By then, the Lannister fleet was fully rebuilt and Lord Lannister along with his vassals lords and ladies raided the Iron Islands and put most of the Greyjoys inhabitants and their bannermen to the sword. Lord Jorn Westerling and Lady Caitlin Clegane saw to it that the Iron fleet was all put to the torch as well. The Greyjoys were forced to sue for peace and Lady Sofie Greyjoy was named as Lady of the Iron Islands and Lady Reaper of Pyke. King David saw that Westeros was exhausted and the opportunity that everyone had returned to their homes, they called every Lords and Ladies of the Great Houses to the first Great Moot at Isle of Faces at God's Eye. Everyone agreed to sign the Treaty of King's Landing and Westeros was at peace again, though exhausted and devastated with the war. 

King David spoke after a long while, as if nothing was amiss. "It doesn't matter now. We have to stop Lord Alexius and Lord Basit from going on another war again. I find it quite weird for House Stark to support House Lannister. Something is up between these two houses." he said, paranoid. "If there is a union between the Lannisters and the Starks, we have to kill this union in its crib." 

"Very well," agreed Lord Andres, "I will see to it that your bannermen are ready before next week. Lady Hand will send a raven to Lord Lannister and Lord Tyrell. In the meanwhile, I expect Lord Akshay to send word to Storm's End and have Lady Brittany's host join ours at King's Landing. I will also recruit and train more men as well."

King David agreed with a satisfied nod. "Queen Annie and I will march our combined host with the peace banners when we meet Lord of the West and Lord of the South. I expect them to trade words before clashing their steels against one another before we can arrive to stop them, I fear that. Alright then, the meeting is adjourned."

David and Annie returned to their bedchamber in the Red Keep. They didn't talk much, their only concern towards the growing tension again between the lions of the west and the roses of the south. David had to comfort his wife. They were greatly concerned with the situation of Westeros. The secret alliance between Lord Alexius Lannister, Lady Isabella Stark and Lady Sofie Greyjoy was a great mystery and a deep threat to the continent once again. Lord Alexius was only twenty-three of age. Lady Isabella Stark was about nineteen of age. Could it be a secret marriage alliance? But Alexius had always rejected every ladies-in-waiting for him, always. Alexius had the blond of hair from his father Lord Tyrion but has the beauty of his mother Lady Sansa. He had blue eye in his right and green eye to his left, which is an addition to make the ladies in court crying for him. Alexius payed no heed to them and only attended the royal court at the Red Keep for important matters only. But if there was a secret marriage planned, then David had to stop it. The lions, the wolves and the krakens could threaten Westeros into another full-scale war again. If they did declare war then they would win this war unlike the previous one. The Treaty of King's Landing was made to rebuild Westeros. With Lord Basit Tyrell wanting vengeance against the Lannisters by sending his raiding party to plunder the southern parts of the westerlands. 

He talked to his wife and Queen. "We'll stop the lions and the roses from killing one another. They have to. Lord Tyrell will have to comply or he will be forced to renounce all his titles and lands." he said, comforting.

"The Lion of Westeros is the best battle-commander we have seen. We can expect him to take Highgarden today or tomorrow or within this week if he wants to. There's no way to stop him. His bannermen are calling him the King of the West." she said. "It's not the war that troubles me. It's the letter that Lord Commander Taimoor sent to me. He is currently ranging beyond the wall with six hundred rangers. So far, they have found nothing but cold dead bodies within the Haunted Forest. All the wildlings he had saved from beyond the wall, he gave them the Gift to settle in."

"Yes, I've heard about too. The New Gift was also given to them I think. What of the cold dead bodies they found in the Haunted Forest?" he asked. It certainly made David have chills run down his spine.

"They had left about a week ago. First Ranger Zabin had reached Hardhome with a hundred rangers. When they arrived, the place was in ruins, ash and desolated. The disturbing part was that they found fresh footprints on the snow grounds." she said, disturbed. Her expression too were uncertain, which made David uncomfortable. "Whatever it is, I don't think the Wall is safe."

"We will talk about that later. For now, just get prepared for the day after the morrow. We'll march as soon as we can to stop Lord Alexius from killing more Tyrells. Get some sleep. I'll have Ser Anina and Ser Jorge guard the door."

Annie perked her head up to him. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"I have court to attend to. People demand they want justice and compensation for their loss because of the war. Thanks to Lord Alexius for paying the Iron Throne debts for us, our treasury is now starting to fill again but the war hurts the innocents and the lands the hardest."

Indeed, during the Treaty of King's Landing, the Lord Lannister payed off all of the expenses of the war effort and compensated everyone who lost their beloved ones. House Lannister’s wealth was vast that paying off all the Iron Throne's debt meant nothing to him. It could be one of the reason why House Greyjoy and House Stark wanted to ally themselves with the Lannisters, since Alexius was the one who installed Lady Sofie to be the Lady of the Iron Islands and there was Stark blood running in Alexius' veins through his mother. Sadly, Lord Lannister wasn't married and had no children to be his heir. He could be very open to threats and attacks for his position, and yet, no one dared to oppose him directly or indirectly. From David's perspective, the Lord of the Rock was kind, gentle, courteous and had a good behaviour. Lord Basit Tyrell was the one really wanting to war against the Lannisters for pointless reasons. It seemed that having the fertile lands of the Reach wasn't enough for him to his rule. The Lord of the Reach was only getting himself ready to lose another battle, or war. A war he cannot hope to win. 

When David arrived at the throne room with his four trusted kingsguard members. Ser Sharon, Ser Tom, Ser Jared and Ser Ebaad. The rest were training in the courtyard of the Red Keep with Ser Mark. As David took his steps up the iron throne, his kingsguard took their post around the throne too, protecting their king from threats with their gold armor and helmets, white cloaks and their longswords. He sat down. He could see many of the royal household within the throne room itself, lords and ladies from minor houses and vassals. There were also the Stark Royal Guards with their sallet helmet and leather and plate shoulder armour and armed with swords and spears. 

Many of the commoners came before David in a single straight line. Their expressions were depressed, shocked, sad and angered. David felt bad for not suing for peace during the midst of the War of the Houses quickly. He did but no one even answered. The first person came with the appearance of amber hair and a fiery beard, and perhaps green eyes from what David could see. He was skinny and lump but the sadness of his face... He did not want to know. He was holding something in his hands. A vase of clay color. 

"Forward." David said with his hand waved. The person came forward and bent to his knee. He placed the vase in front of him. "State your business, good folk." Ser Tom and Ser Jared was ready to draw their swords should the person do anything threatening. He did not though.

"I came... Your Grace... with... with..." the person's voice was so low and hollow like the dead, and started to sob. David was starting to know what had happened to him. "My son... they... they... killed him. They burnt his body too. Left me nothing but his ashes." The contents inside the vase were the ashes of his son.

David felt bad. He felt so bad that sitting on the Iron Throne made him a bad person while the innocents had to suffer the hardest. "I am... so so  _sorry_  for your loss. Is there anyone or any banners you know who did this to you?" Perhaps if you know the bandits or soldiers who have done this, they may be called up to court and get some justice.”

"...the  _Targaryens_..." he said with much of his venom after a long while. "Not only did they put Sharp Point to the torch but most of the people as well. My son was one of them."

There had been many talk of the wrath and the raging berserk for blood of Lord Roshan Targaryen when he landed at the northern end of Massey's Hook. Raping, plundering and slaughtering were all his doings. So was Haystack Hall. It was Lannister gold that payed to rebuild Sharp Point of House Bar Emmon and Haystack Hall of House Errol, not the Crown's treasury. It was really dark and sad to see his subjects being treated like this by soldiers and raiders. "And... your wife?"

He looked down with sorrows. "They  _raped_ her in front of me... and they took her head after that and staked her head on their spear, cheering and laughing." He regretted asking the whereabouts and status of his wife. His son was already a huge hint. He continued. "They took our lands and livestock with them. I am left nothing with."

"I'm sorry for what you had to bear this." said David. "I cannot return you your loss, gods be good, but I can compensate you with better living and fertile lands and new livestock for the rest of your life. I know money can't bring back your loved ones but that is all I can provide. I will make sure that Massey's Hook will be patrolled day and night." Lord Alexius and Lord Basit had come to a hard agreement to spare golds and silvers from the westerlands and food and livestock from the reach. David would compensate the man with five thousand gold dragons, a fertile land in the Crownlands and livestock to live the rest of his life better. Perhaps he could even start his own minor house and swear allegiance to David. If he wanted to. The rest of the court went almost the same. Dark and sorrows and people demands for justice and heads. Most of them demanded justice of Lord Targaryen of Dragonstone but David had to refuse every time. The Treaty of King's Landing cannot be broken. It had a scratch marked on the scroll when Lord Lannister and Lord Tyrell went to war again this month. This week, specifically. 

David retired to his bedchamber. He slipped into his nightshift wear but did not join  his wife in the bed. Instead, he sat on the chair and a table beside him on the balcony that had a view of the Narrow Sea. He poured Arbor red into his goblet and took a series of small sips of it.  _Sweet_. he thought.  _Sweet as summer when the Arbor was in production, but as bitter when the fleet of Redwynes came to lay siege to Dragonstone and King's Landing._  When the large Redwyne fleet arrived and lay siege with their ships of war. But when the Greyjoy's Iron fleet arrived to raid the coast of the Reach and the Arbor, they were immediately called back to counterattack. That was when Lord Alexius took the initiative and striked the heartland of the krakens, the Iron Islands. Leaving a good garrison to defend the west and Lannisport, Alexius left Lannisport with his fleet and bannermen to attack the Iron Islands once and for all. Accepting the defeat of the Greyjoys and capitulate and burnt most of the Iron fleet. 

He remembered well the day when he and the first great meeting of lords and ladies in the Isle of Faces for signing the peace. All of the request and tributes.

"Good lords and ladies, please, have you not thought of what you have done to the innocents and Westeros with your war and battles?" roared David to everyone. "When I arrived at Sharp Point all I saw was dead bodies, burnt and impaled and headless on the grounds."

"I will not tolerate anymore raidings on the westerlands again by Tyrells and Greyjoys. I will not forgive what they did to my parents when they were at the Roseroad. No more when I have to accept their peace." responsed Lord Alexius harshly. "My lord father and lady mother went to the reach to increase our Houses' relations and they murdered them."

"Your aunt caused the death of my aunt and uncle in the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor!" he shouted at the Lord of the Rock.

"I am not responsible for that. That is my aunt's doing yes, but not me nor my parents. So I came down and destroyed your armies and plundered your lands all the same. You're lucky that I did not lay siege to Highgarden or you would see your seat in rubbles and ashes. I showed you mercy that you did not show my parents. Consider yourself lucky."

"Lucky?!" exclaimed Lady Sofie Greyjoy. "Where was your mercy that you showed to my people and my bannermen when you raided the Iron Islands? Where was your mercy when you took my father's head? You are no better than your grandfather,  _Lannister_." she put as much exasperation.  _Lannister_. 

"That is what happens when your lord father raided Lannisport twice. The view of Lord Euron's head on a spike still gives me satisfaction. You do well to remember that I put you on the throne of Pyke."

The news of Alexius' parents death spread across all of the Seven Kingdoms when they were on their way from King's Landing to Highgarden. Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa Lannister were trying to increase the relationship between the Great Houses to House Lannister. Instead, the Tyrells and Martells ambushed their envoys and murdered the Lord and Lady of the Rock. Alexius was about sixteen at that time when it had happened. Years and years passed, and in revenge, during the War of the Houses, Alexius marched down and lay waste to Old Oak, Goldengrove, Bitterbridge, but he did not lay siege to Highgarden. He proceeded to attack the main forces of the Tyrells around the Reach. First, the Battle at Old Oak. It was a bloody and crushing defeat for the Tyrells. They lost about fifteen thousand that very day. Next, Lord Alexius won his second victory at Goldengrove, causing a stunning casualties of twenty-three thousand Tyrells bannermen. The Battle of Bitterbridge was his third and the Battle of Highgarden gave Alexius his fourth victory and significant one to put the Tyrells in position to sue for peace. They lost about twenty-nine thousand bannermen.

When Lord Alexius was done with the Tyrells, he marched down to visit the Martells with his host and smashed the defending forces of Prince Abhisek Martell's at the Prince's Pass. Meanwhile campaigning in Dorne, Lord Basit Tyrell was regrouping and gathering more bannermen in hoping to smash the Lannisters at their backs but the plan turned to ashes when the Tullys lay siege to the Golden Tooth. A letter came to Lord Alexius from Lady Tam Lefford, David supposed, and the Lannisters marched back up to the westerlands and defeated the Tully host at the Golden Tooth.

They continued. It was Lady Isabella Stark who spoke to support the Tyrells and Greyjoys. "Did you have the satisfaction when your family murdered my uncle and grandmother at the Red Wedding?" Lady Isabella Stark was the only child and daughter of Lord Brandon Stark, a younger brother to King Robb Stark. 

You could see the expression of disbelief on Lord Lannister’s face, annoyed and then sighed. "You can blame that on my Lord Grandfather and your Bolton allies. At least you have your bittersweet revenge when my lord father put crossbow darts to my grandfather and when Stannis mounted Roose Bolton's and Ramsay Bolton's head on spike. Did you thank King Stannis before his head was mounted too?"

"Enough!" shouted David at the commotions. Each and every lord and lady had brought their guards of somewhere between fifty to hundreds in case of a plot. But there wasn't any. "That is the past and we all must work together now. Cast aside your petty differences and hatred towards each other. Help us repair the foundation of the Seven Kingdoms and build its future."

"Yes." supported Prince Abhisek Martell.

"Don’t you blame the Lannisters for their crimes in the Red Wedding? Your uncle and grandmother were murdered there at the Twins, orchestrated by the Lannisters, Boltons and Freys!" replied the Warden of the North, Lord Prakash. How David was related to the Stark family was that his father was Lord Rickon Stark. His queen and wife was Annie Karstark from Lady Alys Karstark and Sigorn of the Thenn. 

"I do, but Lord Alexius is right. It was his grandfather that orchestrated the plot of the Red Wedding and not his parents nor him. If I was in your place, I would blame the Tyrells for murdering Lady Sansa Lannister of House Stark. And didn't you forget that it was Littlefinger, Lord Baelish was the reason why he sent Lady Jeyne Poole to play as Arya Stark to wed to the psychopath Bolton bastard?" Everyone was in silent now. "Good. If we all can just work together and sign this treaty, I would be glad. You will all also have to pay tribute to what you have done to innocents and lands of Westeros."

Lord Lannister sighed and conceded. "I will pay most of the expenses for the war disasters we have given.  _Lannister gold_. I expect the Tyrells and everyone to contribute as well. I will pay off your all your debts you owed to the Iron Bank."

And they all signed, everyone was satisfied except the Lord Lannister. After he signed the treaty, he left immediately without any word to them. The vast shipments of gold dragons and silver stags to King's Landing, in total amount of fifteen million gold dragons flowed through the Gold Road. The Tyrells sent their livestock and food shipments from the Reach through the Roseroad. The rest did too when they sent their annual tribute through the Kingsroad.

David decided he had enough for the night thinking about the past. It was dreadful and brutal with victories and defeats, a war that won nothing to any of the Great Houses. It was a war of retribution of the past. He finished his goblet contents and slip into his large bed and lay beside his wife. There was the line that his wife told him earlier that gave him the chills.  _The disturbing part was that they find fresh footprints on the snow grounds._  He tried not to think about it and closed his eyes to sleep.  _Whatever it is, I don't think the Wall is safe._

The next morning, he and his wife woke up to the sound of knocking from the door. It wasn't a rough knocking but it implied that it was urgent. "Your Graces. Lady Hand has a letter to deliver it to you."

"Come in." said Queen Annie.

The door opened and the sound of armor and mail skirt produced from Ser Mark. He gave the letter to David and walked out of the bedchamber, closing the door behind him. He opened the small paper and read the contents written on it.

_Your Graces,_

_I could spare no time to deliver this words to you but Lady Brittany Baratheon has answered your call and her host are marching up the Kingsroad to join us. Your bannermen are all ready to depart on your orders. Do make haste and stop the Lannisters and the Tyrells from spilling more blood on Westeros. I will be joining you the day we leave King's Landing. Ser Rakibul Mobin will see to it that he trains more recruits and watchs over the city._

_Your Hand, Lady Rox Dayne_

David gave a small smile. His wife asked, "What does it say?"

"The bannermen is ready early than I expected. We leave at noon." he replied.


	2. Taimoor I [The Encounter]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we delve into the battle between Lord Lannister and Lord Tyrell, we must go to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch POV and see how this chapter really affects the story line.

The courtyard were bustling with brothers' voices rushing and going on about when he walked out of the Lord Commander's Tower. He had already donned in his boiled leather attire in addition with his thick black fur coat and black leather gloves, as he had always wore. His valyrian longsword, Frostbite, was always strapped to his waist safely. The pommel of his longsword was a cottonwood brand carved into an idly crow, painted in black. The cross-guard was slightly curved upwards from grip itself. The rain guard of his longsword was crusted with aquamarine gemstone on both sides. The gemstones were gifted by Lady Isabella Stark of Winterfell. And finally, we have the blade, the valyrian steel blade. Since each lord had some spare valyrian ingots, they made the valyrian sword production happening but only for a short while. Lord Stefan sent some valyrian steel ingots to Castle Black and that was how Frostbite was made. The blade of Frostbite was about a meter long and it even shone in the cold sunlight. 

He felt the chill in the air. He walked down the dais to the courtyard where everyone was preparing. The retinue was so long that even all the three iron gates that block the tunnel entrance through the wall needed to be opened. First Ranger Zabin and First Steward Jessy was already on their mount, ahead of the retinue. First Builder Abhik had to stay in acting Lord Commander, Taimoor need his First Steward with him to send messages back to Maester Richard in Castle Black. He walked continuously until he reached a small housing, so small that perhaps a toddler would fit in. His albino wolf of white furs came out of the entrance of his shelter with his amber-fiery eyes. He was quiet, a very quiet one, and a loyal companion. He found Winter from the Haunted Forest, southwest of Hardhome. Winter's mother and the rest of his siblings died, except for him. Taimoor adopted him but he couldn't bring Winter back to Castle Black until he was elected as the 1001st Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He scruff his neck and Winter's head tilted, satisfied.

"Here boy," he called, and took out a moderate portion of beef meat, tossing it to Winter who lunged up and snapped the meat mid-air with his jaw. He was quite large for an average direwolf size and yet he jumped like a stallion. "eat well. We're going soon." He watched Winter ate his meat. Winter was about a hundred and sixty-five pound and two feet three inch tall. Yes, Taimoor chose the right direwolf as his companion. He was too lucky to have found him. His beast finished his meat.

"Let's go."

Every brothers of the Watch, rangers, builders, stewards, cookers and all that was packing their stuff in trains of wagons, carried by two strong horses and a rider each wagons and carts. Small belongings and supplies were strapped to their own horses in order not to overweight the wagons. Each of the brothers of the Night's Watch wore the heavy clothing to protect themselves from the cold and hypothermia. It was thick but the cold of the north was not to be underestimated. The coldness of the north was so intense that it could penetrate the highest and best quality of fur coats. He walked pass the mounted black brothers with Winter following him from his trails. Today was the day. The day they make their expedition beyond the wall. Taimoor's seventh expedition beyond-the-wall. Five hundred brothers from Castle Black ready to range from White Tree to Craster's Keep, then finally at the Fist of the First Men. 

He mounted up his brown mount, Ranver, and both Zabin and Jessy trot their horses to ride alongside with Taimoor with their own mount. Winter was the head of the retinue, the tip of the spear. 

Taimoor Shah looked back with his head over his shoulder and took a breathe. "This is it, brothers!" he announced to them. "This is our seventh expedition beyond-the-wall, our expedition to find our missing brothers and the Others' threats looming beyond the Haunted Forest. We will find them and bring our brothers back. Follow me and we'll be the envy of all the sworn brotherhood. First Steward Jessy, sound the horn."

Jessy nodded and brought a white horn and sounded it. Winter was the first among them to run through the tunnel with a bark after a howl. Then Taimoor and the rest of the retinue went into the tunnel. Twisted and narrow the tunnel was, they reached the land beyond-the-wall. Winter was already ahead near the Haunted Forest. He was a fast one. With sometime running their horses, leaving trails of horses' hooves on the snowfield, they entered the Haunted Forest finally, more coming in since the retinue was a large one. 

There were two parties currently having their expedition beyond-the-north. Lord Commander's own party to the Fist of the First Men and First Ranger Zabin would join the party of three hundred black brothers to Hardhome. Zabin took his separate leave from Taimoor along with five rangers with him, trotting their horses east with them to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. They need to find their missing brothers and the rumors of this coming great threat from the beyond-the-wall. 

The sun was so grayed out by the thickness of the mists snow.  _Winter is Coming._  he thought, sending the chills up to his spine. The cold penetrate through his fur coat and boiled leather wear. He wondered how the wildlings managed to survive for so long. The cold of the north, the  _real_  north as the wildlings would say, was very thick and perhaps you could die within the week without anything to protect yourself, especially from being freeze to death and to combat hypothermia. Luckily, they brought plentiful of supplies with them but Taimoor wouldn't know how long would they stay beyond-the-wall. Finding their missing brothers was like one in a thousand. Still, it wasn't impossible. If the rumors of the coming White Walkers was true, then they had to find it out to unveil the truth of the rumor. Whatever it took.

_It is easy to be brave behind a castle wall._

Indeed it was very easy to be brave behind a castle, but when you march out to meet your enemies, your armor of courage gone at the mere sight of the opposing forces. But even when you are behind a castle wall, you walked up to the battlements and look upon them. You came, you saw, you pray. Your courage can be easily destroyed like a mirror with a single drop, and it splatters to the ground.

There were small almost non-visible dirt path that leads to Whitetree. Taimoor remember this path since his every ranging was going through Whitetree for their first stop. They passed through trees and pine trees with their leaves covered with snow. Winter would come from the north, the real north. Branches and twigs snapped upon the impact of the horses' hooves on them. The cold air were so ever silent yet it made the leaves of the trees to rustled. There were barely any grasses to feed the horses. Good thing was that they brought wheat, carrots and longrasses with them. It would take about half an hour to reach Whitetree and already some of the brothers were mumbling and complaining.

Taimoor turned his head to Jessy. He spoke, "Send some scouts ahead of us, and all around. We'll rendezvous at Whitetree before nightfall. And bring in more woods."

"At once, Lord Commander!" he left almost instantly. 

He pulled out a waterskin from one of his satchel strapped onto his horse's waist. Arbor gold, he thought. A fine vintage. There were good stocks of wine back in Castle Black, and he brought a few with him in this expedition. The best he had taste were Arbor Red and Gold, Lannisport Gold, and Dornish Wine. His favorite were the dornish wine. If it weren't for the storm in Sea Dragon Point, Castle Black would had have thousands of wines of dornish, lannisport, and arbor. Sadly, it happened. He drank a few gulps then place it back into the satchel. His hands tightened on the reins and they all continued together, forward to Whitetree.

The last time he went there was the same result. The village was abandoned and deserted, but whoever lived there left their belongings. They did took all of the leftovers by whoever lived there but it wasn't much. Wildlings clothes and weapons, very few food too and it wasn't southern style prepared dish. They seemed to be left in a hurry. Now, he wasn't sure what will they encounter. Probably the same, or something else? Whatever it is, their mission was to find back their brothers and save anyone alive beyond-the-wall. The Gift, or Brandon's Gift, was given to the wildlings. The so-called King-Beyond-the-Wall, Trey Maier with his ninety-thousand free-folk settled at the Gift. If the rumors were true, about the White Walkers and their return, then they have a duty to do since the Long Night. A duty that guards the realm of men.

The sight of the village of Whitetree came to their sight after almost more than an hour. Perhaps he was wrong about the distance. Nevertheless, the main structure that came to Taimoor's eyes was the Whitetree. But what made the village different from his previous expeditions was that the houses' chimneys was releasing smoke and there were movements going on about at the village of Whitetree.  _Wildlings,_  he said to himself. There were men, women and children. The wildlings on watch alerted the rest with a horn sounded and the rest of the men of the wildlings came with their weapons, blunted weapons, and block the entrance dirtpath to Whitetree. Taimoor stopped and the rest of his retinue followed. He was looking around at Whitetree. With the horn alerted, the women and children rushed and retreated back to their houses. There were very few wildlings to put up a stand. Probably about seventy of them in arms.

Taimoor kicked his horse gently and the horse started to move forward slowly. Winter beside him. There are a few rangers beside him as well but they didn't draw their weapons, Taimoor forbade it. As his horse came to a stop, he dismounted his mount and walked himself towards the spearmen of the wildlings in tight formations. Their faces' expressions... horrified and scared. Taimoor felt pity.

"Men of the Free-Folk, please, we come in peace." he announced loudly to them. Loud enough for the whole village to hear. "We have plentiful of supplies for everyone.  _All_  of us."

"Why should we believe you?" shouted the wildling back. Taimoor couldn't tell who it was but it was certainly from the armed men that blocked the entrance.

"Your King-Beyond-the-Wall Trey Maier is at the Gift with the rest of his people. You can join them as well." Not only the Gift was given to them, the New Gift as well.

"We will not believe you! You probably have them all killed already."

He sighed and swallowed to clear his drying throat.  _Damn the cold._  "I'm telling you the truth. Did you see us draw up our swords? No? Then lay down your weapons."

None of the wildlings in armed did. Stubborn as they were, Taimoor couldn't blame them. With what happened at the Battle of Castle Black, the rest fled deeper either to Hardhome or somewhere else. He hoped that his First Ranger Zabin finds survivors or anything at all to him. 

After a long while of silence, one of them spoke out. "So long as you.. as you keep your words. We have women and children here and we are running low..." he replied carefully.

Taimoor nodded. "I will keep my words to my heart. I will tell my men not to do anything and we will distribute you all with supplies. Salted beef, stews, vegetables, wines, anything."

After Taimoor's retinue settled around Whitetree with defenses of stakes and caltrops surrounding their camp, the brothers distributed the food to the wildlings. They accepted it, hesitant at first but they accept it all the same. There was a large house, a hall actually, where Lord Commander Taimoor, First Steward Jessy, five other rangers and the rest of the wildlings chiefs of this settlers sat in their seat at the long table with a burning hearth at the center. He called for a meeting of discussion with the chiefs.

"The last time we, the men of the Night's Watch, came here was largely abandoned with few belongings. The place was deserted." He said first.

"We had a distress call from the other clans from the Fist of the First Men." replied the wildling chieftains who was black of hair, blue eyes and scarred face with a beard. He wore a makeshift mask that was carved into a face, or trying to replicate a man's face. "We had a battle at The Skirling Pass." he said.

"A battle?" What battle?

"Yes, with the White Walkers and their undead army. We lost many good men in the fight, we were trying to get the others to safety but not all made it." Taimoor could see the sadness in his face. The other chiefs as well.

Could it be true? It could be the reason why he found Whitetree largely deserted during his previous ranging. "How many people do you have with you?"

"Before the battle, we have about two thousands. Now, we have less than a thousand."

A grim battle it was then, he declared. If the return of the White Walkers were truly coming, then Taimoor had to find out about them, their current location and then bring proof back to the southern lords, ladies, the King and Queen. But first, he needed to confirmed them and bring some proof. It would be hard since the previous First Ranger, Ser Alliser Thorne brought the proof with him but it melted away before he could even present it to Lord Tyrion and the Small Council. They were in a desperate situation now. Westeros was in danger, no, the world was in danger threat from the looming and skulking shadows of the north. 

"You can come with us down south after our ranging, we have spare horses and carts for transport for women and children. We can lead you back to your clans in the south." he offered them kindly.

The other chiefs mumbled with untraceable voices. Taimoor only observed. From what he could tell, it was mostly a disagreement. 

"I don't know if this is a joke to you or maybe a trap, but I have to tell you,  _Crow_ , that we are in a hostile lands now. Not wildlings lands no more, White Walkers ruled now and they are growing stronger by the day. Even if we did follow you down south, what makes you think your Wall is safe?"

"The Wall is protected with magical barriers."

"I don't see any magical barriers when my kin pass over your wall with hooks." he countered back. "No one is safe from the White Walkers."

No. No one was safe beyond-the-wall and so was down south with their petty politics and games. "Still, it's better than to let your people die miserably and raise to be part of the White Walker's undead army. Do you all want that?" he said to them all. Everyone was in silent and kept their heads down.

"Aye," the voice came from one of the chieftains. They all perked their heads up and look to the voice's source. "I lived, I fought against the dead, and I certainly won't be giving up now. Barak, you saw what the Night King could do with the dead bodies, do you want that to happen to all of us? I think the Crow is right. Following them down south with our other kin might gives us the chance to fight against the dead. After all, we can't do anything here but running away from the dead."

"Agreed!"

"Aye!"

And so everyone of the chieftains agreed to follow the Night's Watch to the Gift. "We will follow you, Crow." declared Barak. "You will take us to our kin in this  _Gift_  of yours. We have our families there."

He nodded solemnly at them. "And for that, and all of you, you have my promise to the Old Gods and the New."

"We, the Free-Folk don't believe in any gods of you southerners as we believed in ourselves. These...  _gods_  of yours didn't helped us when we fought against the dead."

Talking about religion to them seemed pointless. They don't believe in the Old Gods and the New, or if they knew about it. Religions to them don't matter, survival was, and it's what made them survive for this long. He respect them for that, truly. Taimoor was of the Old Gods, Zabin and Abhik too, whilst Jessy was of the Seven Faith. The other brothers varied, depending on the regions they'd been raised to. Still, he admired them of their wits. "Very well then. You will follow us once after we go to the Fist of the First Men."

Barak's face frowned. "The Fist of the First Men? Are you crazy? The Night King and his army is nearby there. You can't possibly fight them with your crows."

"No," he admitted, "I'm going with two hundred rangers and the rest will stay here, preparing for the march back to Castle Black."  _And we will send riders and scouts to scour the Haunted Forest and the River Antler._  It would be days, or a week to reach the Fist of the First Men, unlike the voyage of Zabin's party to Hardhome. He had ships to sail back and forth without problems. Lord Baratheon and Lord Lannister was kind enough to sent fifty galleys each to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Five to fifteen should be enough for the scout riders to scour their given destination, no more men should be spared to that. The White Walkers' could attack them all at once with coordinated attack and no messenger sent back to warn the camp of Whitetree. 

"I thought you southerners were more clever than we wildlings were. Instead, you are mad. We won't follow you to the Fist of the First Men. My people has dread and fear that place as it belongs to the Night King now."

He nodded all the same. All he need was the confirmation and proof for the coming meeting. "You don't have to. All we need is their existence for validity and proof of them. And after that, we can go back down south."

When the meeting was over between the chieftains and the Night's Watch, Taimoor went out of the house and many rangers of the Watch was still distributing food to the free-folks. It was good to help them, and better once they got back south safely without any losses. He walked passed lively houses with smoking chimneys, children running around playing, and rangers and armed wildlings on the watch. Taimoor could also see some children riding horses playfully under the watchful eyes. It was good to help them from the dangers. The Night's Watch had always been defending the Walls for about eight thousand years from the White Walkers, but they were gone and they had been defending the south from wildlings trespassers. Now, Taimoor wanted to changed that like what Lord Commander Jon Snow did. He wanted to change their lifestyle and perhaps even help them build castles and towns in the Gift. 

With all these gentle and good intentions in his mind, he had to make them come to a reality. His main priority now was to discover more wildlings camps anywhere in this hostile lands. No matter what. Their lives was in much danger as much as the southerners. If Mance Rayder could unite a different clans then perhaps he could too with the same reason. The threat of the Others. His other priorities was to find more dragonglass, one of his main reason to go to the Fist of the First Men. They had a few of them but not much to defend against a company of dead soldiers. In addition, the Night's Watch had only about two thousand rangers to manned the Wall, including the builders and the stewards. The southern lords did sent some outlaws to serve the Night's Watch but it wasn't enough. If the dead truly came to siege the Wall, then...  _Then we hoped that the southern lords and ladies would unite with unified banners and one common goal: to destroy the White Walkers._  he prayed for that.

The black brothers of the Night's Watch had erected black pavilions given by Lord Prakash Stark, Warden of the North, Prince Abhishek Martell and Lord Daniel Tully. The pavilions were of high quality and better than what the Night's Watch originally had. The pavilions were enough to room for about six to eight people, depending on the size too, but it was good all the same. His own tent was a bit larger but it was all for himself. There tables with wines and treats, chests with books, scrolls, weapons and all that. Carpets of furs were scattered everywhere to cover the snowy ground. A makeshift comfortable bed was placed at the side and a campfire just outside his own. 

He went into his pavilion and remove his gloves, tossed them aside to the table. His steward Jessy came in as well, did the same and joined with him at the table. Taimoor took out a brandish wine of Lanniport Gold and pour the contents almost fill on two goblets. One for himself and one for Jessy.

"I never thought it would be easy to deal with the wildlings," said Jessy before taking a sip. "This one is easier to discuss with than Trey Maier. Lord Commander, do you really believe this story?" He plucked a purple-black grape and tossed into his mouth.

Before Taimoor could reply, he swallowed a chunk of pigeon pie with blue cheese add-on. "Well, why do you think Trey Maier and his people went down south to attack the Wall? If they are really running away from something, then it is for good solid reasons. The rumors of the returning of the White Walkers would be a very possible one."

"Still," Jessy bite off the crusty brown in a big portion. "they are only rumors all the same, gods be good for that. Perhaps they were only wanting to get pass the Wall without any restriction? I mean we have let over ninety thousand wildlings settle in the Gift and the New Gift. It's something-"

"We have let that happen when Lord Commander Jon Snow allowed that too. Do you want the size of the Night King's dead army to grow? Then we must save as many as we can instead of sending them off to the White Walkers, Jessy. I am meant to save their lives."

He nodded with apologetic look on his face. "I understand, Lord Commander. Forgive me." He bowed his head in shame.

He sighed. "There's no need to forgive there, good friend. We all have our own views. Tomorrow, have two hundred rangers ready to march on the way to the Fist of the First Men at the break of dawn. We have to uncover this rumors and all. And hopefully that we will find more dragonglass as well. Any ravens from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?" he asked to his First Steward.

"No, Lord Commander, there isn't any for now." 

His sixth ranging beyond-the-wall was about seven moons ago but that was at Hardhome. A short voyage to the deserted place. They found fresh foot tracks but no one was there. First Ranger Zabin sent ravens to King's Landing to informed about this matter but no one replied. They were too busy with their on-going political issues. If only he could persuade all of them to sought answers to the matters of greater importance to the survival and safety of the world. And the Night's Watch and their Wall was what keeping them alive. Taimoor had sent some galleys from the Shadow Tower to scour the Land of Always Winter but none of them came back. Not even a raven about their status. A rescue squad was sent but they too went missing. Two ranging had been made before the seventh expedition started. First one was three moons ago with seven black brothers. Second was about a moon ago with eight black brothers for the rescue search and they all went missing. Taimoor had it enough of this missing good brothers of his and so he announced for the next expedition beyond-the-wall. And here he was. 

Surely, the wildlings of Whitetree was glad to be  _saved_ since they were being ported to the Gift and the New Gift. Many builders of the Night's Watch went to them and help them build homes, keeps and farmlands to grow. Taimoor sent for them. He even sent some helpers to help the wildlings read and write. Perhaps they could even establish more houses for the North and swear their fealty either to House Stark or to the Night's Watch. House Thenn was established when Lord Commander Jon Snow gave them the lands and when he marry off Lady Alys Karstark to Sigorn Thenn. They had a daughter, which was the current Queen Annie Karstark and married to King David Stark. Taimoor only met the Queen once, she was lovely with black of hair. He met King David a few times, discussing. When they finished their late lunch, Jessy walked out the pavilion to join the with the other black brothers around the campfire, cooking and boiling water and stews. Taimoor could smell the scent of chickens in ale broth.

He thought of the great noble family of Westeros. Taimoor remembered their lineage but not too deep. The Lannisters. When Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa Lannister became the Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock, they had a son together and their only child, the current lord Alexius Lannister. Alexius was not married to anyone and without any children, not bastards. He turned twenty-one years old this year and had accomplished many things, especially in military campaigns. Some said that he was as ruthless as his grandfather Tywin, some said that he was gentle and kind like his mother, some even said he was both. Whatever they claimed to say, the words of Alexius' victories in the Westerlands, the Reach, the Iron Islands and Dorne had reached all about the Seven Kingdoms and perhaps even into Essos. Taimoor knew someone who could be the potential match for Alexius' tactical and strategical mind was the Lord of the Vale, Lord Stefan Arryn.

Though many people had oft being confused the order of victories obtained by the Greatest Lion of the Rock. But Taimoor knew better. Alexius won his first victory at Old Oak, second at Goldengrove, third at Bitterbridge, fourth at Highgarden, fifth at Prince's Pass, sixth at the Golden Tooth, seventh for the raid of the Second Siege of Pyke. His only defeat was that he sent a detachment of five thousand bannermen to Horn Hill but the Tyrells ambushed them, but it wasn't a significant loss to the Lannisters. The seventh, however, was inconclusive. The Battle of the Gold Road won by none, although the Lannisters claimed they were victorious since their casualties were lesser than the Arryns.

Lord Stefan of House Arryn was also like Alexius. He was the only child of Lord Robin Arryn and a daughter of Lady Anya Waynwood. A man about twenty-six of age with black hair and sky-blue eyes, masculine with broad shoulders. Like Alexius, he was a born military commander and they were both a renowned swordsmen in the realm, yet they didn't adopt the title  _ser._ During the War of the Houses, the two had fought with their armies against each other at the Battle of the Gold Road. It was a settled battle when King David and his host arrive with the peace banners to stop the bloodshed so no one won. Still, they had the initial clash and it was already as bloody as a dagger stabbed through your back. If it weren't for the last minute King's arrival with his army, either Lord Lannister or Lord Arryn would obtained a pyrrhic victory since they were both currently the best battle-commanders Westeros had in years. Although Taimoor didn't partake himself and his brothers to the war, it wasn't his war, nor his men's. Still, War of the Houses intrigued him all the same.

The Tullys of Riverrun and the Riverlands were now a proud house. Lord Daniel Tully, youngest son of Lord Edmure and Lady Roslin Tully of House Frey. He had two older brothers before him but they both died when the Tully cavalry charge against the marching Stark host down the kingsroad with their wedge formation. It was a victory for the Tullys, but with Daniel Tully's brothers' lives. Lord Daniel had taken the looks of his mother Lady Roslin, with the exception of inheriting his hair from his father. He wasn't muscular but he wasn't skinny either. Just a fitting body. Having won two victories in the riverlands, one at the Siege of the Twins, and the other at the Battle of the Kingsroad, he received a painful and devastating defeat at the Second Battle of the Golden Tooth by the Lannisters. He lost about nine thousand or more bannermen that very day, winning Lord Alexius his fifth victory. The Lions certainly had roared that made the trout flinched away from the shallow waters. The relations between the Tullys and the Starks had been severely disrupted after the Battle of the Kingsroad, even though they shared some bloodline. Even though Lord Alexius Lannister was half-Lannister half-Stark, he also had some Tully blood in him through his grandmother, the Lady Catelyn Stark of House Tully.

Prince Abhishek Martell of Sunspear was the only child and son of Princess Arianne Martell and Lord Garlan Tyrell, also of mother's beauty but with his father's skill in fighting. Lady Leonette Fossoway passed away unfortunately of sickness. He had a fair-olive skin and dark and long eyes. He ruled the lands of Dorne with his wife, Princess Laura Martell. They had two children together, Prince Quenas and Princess Tana Martell, boy of five and girl of three. Prince Abhishek left Sunspear with host to defend the Prince's Pass from Lord Alexius and his bannermen after he was done with his Reach Campaign. Twenty thousand spears and shields defend the pass but they were driven back by the Lannisters. Again, Prince Abhishek rallied his bannermen and made defensive garrisons at Skyreach and Sandstone. Before the Lord of Lannister could even march to either Skyreach or Sandstone, the siege at the Golden Tooth reached the lions and they immediately made their way back to the westerlands and defeat Lord Daniel Tully, sparing unintentionally the Martells.

The last, indecisive and major battle that marked the end of the War of the Houses was the Battle of the Gold Road, between the two greatest battle-commanders, Lord Lannister and Lord Arryn. With the Iron Islands exhausted and sacked, the riverlands bloodied, the reach devastated, the north in wary eyes, Dorne in defensive position and the Stormlands in peace. All that was left was the Arryns and the Lannisters. The falcon against the lion. Again, if it weren't for King David to stop them from continuing fighting the battle, it could be the bloodiest battle of the War of the Houses. Before David and his host arrived, twelve thousand men died for the Lannisters and fifteen thousand for the Arryns, inclusive of skirmishing and first order of the battle. What many people forgot oft times was that Lord Arryn won his second victory against the royal crown at the Battle of Antlers, first being the Battle of Maidenpool.  _The War of the Houses, they called it._ thought Taimoor.  _More like War of Vengeance._

Taimoor didn't recall how he splashed water to his face but he did. It was refreshing when the hot water made impact with his face, it was cold here, too cold. He could hear outside groups of men muttering and laughing. It could be almost evening now, he thought. He wiped his face with a towel and walked out of his own pavilion. He joined with the rest of his trusted brothers of the watch around the campfire not far from his own pavilion. First Steward Jessy was there along with other seven brothers, Moorer, Ryvver, Vertra, Ali, Mahesh, Wezi and Modrek. On the center of them was a burning of firewood and warm fire with a cooking pot above the fire with iron stand to support the pot. Inside the pot were boiling water of brown mead, onions, parsley, oysters and chunks of pigeon meats and perhaps with some pinches of crystal salt. It smelled good. Vertra and Ali was the cooker so they distributed the stew on brown wooden bowls that came with a wooden spoon and they all ate together silently. Winter wasn't here yet since they found the wildlings settling in Whitetree.  _Hunting_ , he said silently, and dreadfully. They also talked some tales and japes and comparisons for the rest of evening.

When night befalls on them, Taimoor and Jessy shared the same pavilion, though separated grounds with black curtains to cover between them. Also, the pavilion was big enough to have a washing station, a small room for the Lord Commander's makeshift office and two other mainly for the beds and the lounge. His makeshift bed was mainly a cot with additions of animal pelts on the ground to make it comfier. Other than that, it was nothing luxurious. Two pillows and two layers of wolf pelted feather blanket to warm himself up. First Steward's had almost the same as his. After Taimoor cleaned himself up, next was Jessy. He went to bed while he could hear his First Steward cleaning himself up at the cleaning station.

On the next morn, when Taimoor woke up with the muttering voices of the black brothers and the small folk filled the outside cold air. He felt a sting of chill on his body. From what Taimoor could tell, the sky was still blue but the sun had started to rise up from the beginning of the horizon. Today was the day he and First Steward Jessy would be going to the Fist with two hundred rangers. Their job? To uncover the secret of the rumors spread by the free-folk. Jessy was beginning to awake as well. He walk up from his cot bed and proceed to the washing station to clean his face. Taimoor took the first wave of water to his face. It was cold, the cold wind made it cold. Nevertheless, Taimoor kept washing his face with series of cold water and wipe his face with the towel. Winter, his wolf, was sleeping beside his cot bed.  _He must have come back when I was asleep in the night._

An hour later, the sun was visible to most if not all. Dawn was finally here. Jessy was preparing both of their horses and readied two hundred rangers for the journey to the Fist. Taimoor armed himself with Frostbite and a shortsword as well. Protecting himself with two hard thin layers of boiled leather and a fox fur coat to combat against the cold. Winter was up and fed and ready to go. After finishing all of his preparations, Taimoor and Winter walked out of their pavilion to the north dirtpath of Whitetree village. Since his First Builder stayed at Castle Black, First Steward following him, First Ranger went to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, he entrusted Ali and Vertra to be the acting leaders of this expedition group.

He mounted up his horse along with the rest behind him. This small retinue would take about two to three days to the Fist if they weren't stopping their hooves. He moved his head to his shoulder and looked at his steward. "Sound the horn, Jessy, we make our way to the Fist then to the Skirling Pass." the steward nodded, took out his horn and produced a loud sound enough for the whole vicinity of Whitetree to hear. They galloped together right after Taimoor and his steward went on first. Winter to his right.

This was the first day and they reentered the forest again. The sunlight rays was limited to them with tree leaves and branches and the density of the cold mist surrounding them. It was as if you needed a torch to light your way but it was unnecessary to do it if you have good eyes. They brought two week rations of supplies for them, all packed and straddle to their horses' waists. There was a queer feeling Taimoor felt as they continued to their path.  _The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._ As if they were being watched by the unknown that lurks within the Haunted Forest and beyond.  _The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._

The only noise that weren't produced from the retinue of his were the sounds of twigs and branches made a broken sound and the crows that flew above high from where they perched. But there was something... something Taimoor felt very uneasy. They continued along without disturbance, Winter still running beside him. 

_The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._

Come the noon they made a small break of thirty minute and no more. If he could navigate the map correctly, this small covered dirtpath would lead them to the Fist. Northwest. The rangers of the black brothers were having their second fast but they didn't make a campfire since they wouldn't be here long. Once they break their rest, they continued riding again. Again that same feeling.

_The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._

"Halt!" Taimoor shouted with his clenched fist to his shoulder. The retinue stopped behind him, with quiet murmuring. He looked to his steward with a disturbed look. "Don't you have that feeling of being watched, Jessy?"

Taimoor could see the freezing breath of air made by his steward. "I don't know but I have always felt queer when we entered the forest when he left."

"Keep your guards up and lit your torch if you can. I don't know what lurks around us and prepare your swords."

_The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._

How long could he keep up to feel like this? It made him anxious to know now. Whatever it was, Taimoor decided to ignore the feeling. But Winter too was wary. He casted the strange feeling away, if he could. 

Afternoon was the time now, perhaps maybe around three of the afternoon. Nearly evening maybe and they kept galloping their way further. The ambient was getting queer as it was as silent, only the leaves rustling by the brushing of the wind. It was getting darker and the visibility was almost impossible with the dense mist.  _We should take a break,_ he told himself,  _the horses are getting tired and should be resting for the next day and fed._

Taimoor pulled up his reins and his horse came to a stop. "We stop here for the night. Open fire if you will to keep warm to combat the cold. Don't let frostbite bite you."

And so they did. Makeshift tents erected around the forest and campfires ablaze in the dark night. People were talking and cheering in low distant chattering. Cooking and boiling too. Taimoor wouldn't be having a comfortable tent like his large pavilion back in Whitetree but this tent would make do. A black basic ridge tent enough for only a person and a layer of fox pelt to sleep on. Taimoor wouldn't be having blanket this night and the coming nights that will be coming before returning to Whitetree. He ate a salted beef and oat wheat soup as his dinner then he went to sleep. He closed his eyes, and he dreamed something... something disturbing.

" _We have return._ " said the dark, cold voice in his dream.

He woke up very early in the morning. He looked around him and outside, it was still dark and no one or any group was in the chattering. He woke up sweaty. This made him a little nervous. How could he sweat in this cold wind? But it wasn't a warm sweat but a cold sweat. Taimoor took his moment to breathe in and out. In and out, he instructed himself until he was done. He had forgotten what dream he had dreamed but it certainly made him anxious and sweaty cold. He open his tent flaps and saw Winter outside, though he was awake and his eyes and ears in wary state. He didn't seem to noticed Taimoor's awake, or he just didn't bother at all, Winter's head moved around from trees to trees as if he heard something from afar. Then came a lowly growl. His eyes in fiery-amber. He growled again, a little louder this time.

"What is it, Winter? Tell me." he asked, his swordhand to his Frostbite's hilt to ready to draw, for any threats to come.

He growled, and his growl grew a little louder each passing seconds. Then came a howling from the distant. It was far, yet it was loud enough for any to hear. It sent waves of chills to Taimoor's body. And Winter stood up four leg and howl with it. 

"Stop it, Winter! Stop howling!"

Then everyone in black woke up muttering with their sleepy eyes but they quickly drew their swords up and looked around. First Steward Jessy too. "What is it, Lord Commander?" he asked, warily.

"A howl," he responded, "not far from us. Give the signal horn, we continue our journey to the Fist now. The longer we wait, the queerer the place becomes. I say it's better we are to make it to the open fields of snow and not stuck in this forest."  _Haunted Forest_ , he recalled the name. Why was this great ranging so much different the rest?

Jessy signaled the horn. "Calm down, brothers, it's just a wolf howl. Quickly break your fast. The faster all of you ready, the faster we have to leave this forest."

A ranger said, "I couldn't sleep well last night, First Steward. I heard twigs and branches breaking, the leaves rustling but not brushed by the wind, and I heard voices as well." he complained.

"Aye!" support one of the rangers. "I don't know what lurks in the forest but I heard it too."

"Calm down, calm down. I think we have all heard it. The easier you-"

"Turger is missing! And so is Poren and Yiret!" exclaimed a black brother. Taimoor couldn't tell who.

Taimoor crawled out of his tent and strapped his Frostbite and shortsword to his waist. Things were getting out of hand. "Find them. Is their belongings there?" No one was supposed to be missing, or desert. No one would dare to desert them deep inside the Haunted Forest.

"It's here, Lord Commander, and their swords as well."

"All of you, break your fast first! We'll find them before we set out at noon. Jessy, if you will have the searching party ready."

Jessy's face was pale white, not of cold but of the situation going on now. He nodded then. "Y-yes, Lord Commander." he replied wearily.

He stopped Jessy by his shoulder. "I want all of them to be here, alive or dead, before noon comes."

Everyone break their fast silently. Oatmeal and black bread with mayonnaise ham in it. The oatmeal was deliciously hot with the sweet addition of condensed milk. Winter ate heated raw beef. He wondered, how could three of his rangers went missing? Perhaps they were taking a piss? But that wouldn't be the case, if they were then they would have found their way back. If they had deserted, they wouldn't leave their belongings, supplies and especially swords. Where could have they been? Perhaps lost? That wouldn't be the case either. The horn was loud enough for everyone to hear. Even from where the wolf howled earlier. He had to remember the horn phases: a horn for rangers returning, two horn for wildlings, and the third, three horn for white walkers.  _Let's hope we don't get until three._ _By the Old Gods and the New, don't let us use three._

So far, there wasn't any news from the searching party, and it was almost noon. They had spent hours in alert and only talked for awhile but nothing more than that. Everyone seemed pale as a milk but they tried to be hard. They were the guards that shields the realm of men. They had taken their vows and they were about to uncover something utmost important. A horn sounded. Just one.

"They have returned, dead or alive." he said to himself. "Winter, with me."

They walked to where the searching party came with their horses. Only three of them went to search, originally. "Lord Commander, there isn't any sign of Turger, Poren and Yiret. We found no traces as well."

No traces? "What do you mean, ranger? Speak."

"I think it has something to do with the cold wind last night but I wouldn't know. Anyway, we couldn't find any traces. No footsteps, no signs of struggling on the snow piles too. So far, it's nothing from our searching."

They couldn't waste anytime anymore. Noon was coming and they had to reach to the Fist by tomorrow or late tonight. "No matter," he said, "we will find them on our way back." Taimoor turned to all of his rangers around him. "All of you, packed your things up, you have fifteen before we set out again."

Everyone quickened their task preparing their horses and roll up their tents and flushed out the campfires. Torches were again lit anew and they mounted their mount. Their black of coats was what made them man but it was their expression that made them milk boys again. Taimoor couldn't blame them. With all this happening suddenly, It was hard to understand what was going on. Needless to say, he became a milk boy himself too. He laughed dryly at himself.

They galloped forward again, liked they did yesterday. This was the third time, and without Turger, Poren and Yiret. Originally, this group had two hundred but since the three went missing, it became one hundred and ninety-seven. Taimoor took out his waterskin of wine and drank it with few gulps. Dornish red and it was cold due to the intense coldness here in the Haunted Forest. He placed it back to the satchel. Winter ran ahead which he was faster than his own horse. It was hard to see his direwolf since he was as white as the pale snow on the ground. Both of his hands on the reins of his horse. 

_The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._

"Lord Commander! Lord Commander!" Jessy shouted from his left, galloping still. "Movement to our right!"

Taimoor looked from his left to his right. The passing trees and bushes were hard to make out what Jessy said. He hardened his eyes to focus. Suddenly, the sight gave him all the chills in the world. There was something running with them. Not an animal like a feral wolf or wild dogs, but something... human. But it wasn't human either. It had a rusted-worn breastplate and holding a blue sword that almost looked like an ice. The most disturbing part was that it was running with them but none of the other rangers seemed to noticed this. It looked to him, with his pale glowing frosty eyes. Taimoor breathe in and out quickly.

"Jessy! Sound three horns!"

_The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears._

"They have returned!"

"What? Who?!" asked desperately from Jessy.

"The Others! Sound the goddamn horn now! Alert the others!"

A horn sounded: one. Another horn sounded: two. Another one sounded: three. The other horns from behind them followed and the voice of his rangers were aloud and the horses freaking, but they kept galloping forth. 

"Movement to the left!" exclaimed Jessy again.

Yes, another one of it to their left, and this time there were a lot of them. What came next sent shivers through everyone's veins. The Others screamed as they ran. He remembered what Barak the Chief said,  _We had a distress call from the other clans from the Fist of the First Men._ he said the day before they left.  _We had a battle at The Skirling Pass._

"Keep moving!" Taimoor shouted to his rangers. The horses neigh uncontrollably but they had to keep moving out of the forest or else... Maybe the Others were the reason why Turger, Poren and Yiret went missing. It was the only plausible option and the Others were real now. Barak was right. Lord Commander Jon Snow too was right and he tried to convinced the rest of Westeros but they didn't believed in him. This time they had to make it out to the open with haste and without stopping. How many White Walkers were following beside them in the deepness of the forest? Have they been watching them sleeping? What of Turger, Poren and Yiret?

No time to waste thinking about them now. It was useless. Taimoor's main priority was to get his group out of the Haunted Forest safely without further losses, or at least, minimal losses. They couldn't spent anymore time taking a break so they had to keep moving forward till they see light at the end of their path. A hand to his Frostbite and one to his reins. Just in any case of what would the Others do to attack them. They were still following them. And the rangers might had already saw them too. Taimoor double timed his horse and they went into full speed galloping, the rest followed. Once they reached to the safety of the open lands they could rest there and feed their horses again, but not now. 

If only they had composite bows, they could try to kite down the Others from following them. Harassed them at the least. The Others were running fast. Too fast. Winter was still ahead and kept his vigil up. He sheathed his valyrian longsword steel, Frostbite, out. The rest of his rangers didn't have anything to combat themselves against the Others. Valyrian Steel and Dragonglass had been purportedly effective against the White Walkers. Luckily he had one, unfortunately for his black brothers. He had his validation of their existence, the Others. But he would need proof of them once they returned to Castle Black. Again, Taimoor's priority was to get them all out alive with no losses. The Others screamed again.  _Psychological warfare they're playing against us._ Indeed, the scream of theirs was terrifying to the bones.

Come the afternoon it was with the same situation. He could feel his horse was a bit of tired but he must forced their stallions to press onward to reach the safety of the open. The Haunted Forest was too haunted for them, and Taimoor didn't want any of his rangers to die because of not knowing what haunts them. Too many black brothers had already went missing over the courses of years, decades and even centuries. Whatever the reasons was, the White Walkers must have a part in it.

Then night dawned in. The White Walkers that were following them seemed to have run off. But they could still be lurking around their small crude makeshift encampment. The process of erecting the tents were all rushed and improper. No blaming to them of what they had just encounter earlier on. The discovery of the Others' existence.  _We have return._ Winter came to sit beside him. A rabbit's body on his mouth. He ate it like a butcher's work but Taimoor didn't care. Frostbite was still sheathed and rested on his lap. His hand brushing softly on Winter's fur and scratched his head comfortably. On his satchel beside him he took out a loft of brown cold bread and hardened salted beef. He ate them silently, thinking with dread. He fed his horse when they started unpacking for the night. This time, there would be twice the watch around and within them. If what Barak the Chief said was right, and the White Walkers lurking around them, then the undead army shouldn't be too far.

He should sent a raven to Whitetree but they didn't brought any with them now. This ranging was supposed to be clear and fast without any troubles ahead. A large search and rescue party, might he add. They didn't expect to encounter the Others. No, they weren't prepared at all. The part the most disturbing was their screaming. Their pale blue glowing eyes, rotten skin with blue war marks and their weapon made of ice. The way they ran beside them.  _Oh, what could be worse? The Old Gods and the New save us our souls now. You made us horn thrice and now let us live through this ranging._

He still didn't know why he kept going on but they must. To search for Dragonglass and they need to capture a wight or a white walker, if possible. The first and last time a brother of the Night's Watch bring proof down south to King's Landing melted. That was Ser Alliser Thorne. 

"My lord," the voice sounded beside him. It belonged to Jessy. "Here, eat." He handed a beef stew to him. Still hot and warm, fresh from the cooking pot.

"The men are restless." he said before taking a spoonful of soup. "Barak was right. The Others have returned, and yet, it was hard for us to believe him until we saw them. How naive we have been all this time." Taimoor looked down to the ground.

"It's our fault for that matter. We have all been an ignorant of this problem of their returning now.  _I am the guard that shields the realm of men_ , bah!" Jessy shook his head. "Still, we have to warn the south of this now and we do need proof of the White Walkers. A live one. It's one of the sole reason why we are going to the Fist, right?" 

"Yes. Also, to find more Dragonglass. I think Turger, Poren and Yiret has joined the dead ranks now."

"Bugger them then. Eat well, Lord Commander, and rest. Lead us home safely. We are counting on you."

Next morning was sunshine bright, unlike two days before this. The sun rays reflected down to the snow and no one had been missing this night. That was good news. The last thing he wanted now was half of his rangers gone, missing or taken. Everyone break their fast as usual and some fed the horses with long grass, wheat, carrots and apples. As soon as Taimoor finished his breakfast, which was dull as usual, he fed Winter and his mount before saddling him up. He slept crudely last night, not taking the luxury to erect his tent up. Everyone saddled their horses and formed a wedge formation, thinly One forward, two behind the first, then three to four last. This was a battle formation intended to penetrate the rear and back lines of the enemy forces but they used it now for speed. Winter was ahead of them again. This was the third day. The day they reached the Fist with haste.

The Others didn't follow them this time. He was glad for that and thanked the gods. They galloped easily but that doesn't mean they had to slow down for luxury. Remembering their priority, their objective was to leave the Haunted Forest and to the Fist safely and unscathed. The White Walkers could still be very well around them, watching. 

Taimoor saw an opening in front of them. A bright light that leads out of the forest.  _We're nearly there._ How his smile was drawn on his face was unknown but he was glad that they would be out of the forest in a few moments now. Then came a clash of steels and men shouted, horses neighing.

"Wights attacking us!" shouted a ranger. Horn sounded three times after that. Taimoor sheathed Frostbite.

Wights coming out of the lines of trees and bushes, ambushing them like storm. A wight came for him, it was skinny with worn padded armor, armed with blunted sword. His body were rotten to the bones with rotten flesh. Taimoor quickly countered it with Frostbite parrying the wight's sword and thrust his sword to wight's visible chest. It fell to the ground. Taimoor looked around him. The wights were endlessly pouring down from the woods and his retinue were desperately attacking, each for their own lives now. Jessy drew out his sword and hack down a wight in half slice.

"We are being overrun!" Taimoor realized there wasn'y any hope of a glimpse of victory out of this mess. "One for each of their lives! We move out! Set your destination to the Fist if you are left behind!"

A contingent of his group followed him out of the slaughter. Most of his retinue now were left behind. Scattered in groups or fighting their way out for their lives. He heard clashes of steel and men screaming of agony. But he didn't looked behind them and continued along. Winter was nowhere to be found. Finally, they reached out of the Haunted Forest. The sunlight beamed upon his face before he could get a clear view of the surrounding landscape. The land beyond-the-wall.  _My people has dread and fear that place as it belongs to the Night King now._ He remembered Barak said that when they were at the meeting, and he was right again. They had claimed the Haunted Forest as well. Taimoor looked to his back, a small contingent of his rangers were behind him. No more than seventy perhaps. Winter's howl sounded from the Fist, he could see it with his naked eyes. He was  _there._ There was only one entrance to the Fist and it was spiraled up with rings of stones like deadly plateaus. Nevertheless, they were making for the Fist of the First Men. More and more rangers came out of the woods, dead or alive. It doesn't matter. Some of the horses didn't even had a rider riding on it. Most of them regroup with Taimoor's remaining contingent. The rest, perhaps lay dead on the grounds of the snows and maybe even raised to the dead's ranks.

When galloping up the natural stoneway to the circle surface of the stony Fist. Taimoor quickly dismounted his horse and went to the edge of the Fist, looking around at the Haunted Forest for any remaining survivors from the slaughterfest. Taimoor could only count five riders coming from the woods and that was all. 

"What do we do now, Lord Commander?" asked Jessy, scared and panicked. The rest of the brothers were weary and shocked too.

"Set up defenses. Stakes, caltrops, anything to prevent the Others and the wights from entering the Fist. Make sure the guards are armed with longbows and arrows and swords and torches. I want no one leaving the Fist without my order. Jessy, get some sappers digging the Fist's site for Dragonglass or anything really. Do it now, now!"

They set up makeshift fortifications around the Fist. Rangers with longbows and arrows stood on the rocks of the ring around it and the rangers armed with longswords and torches guarded behind the stakes and caltrops. The rest set up on the Fist, tending the wounded. Sappers were digging through the deepness of the snow and found some ancient valuables, and also Dragonglasses. Three satchels of them were founded passed three hours. Taimoor couldn't rest easy, nor was anyone could. Winter was still standing on the edge of the Fist, his ears up and wary face that overlooks beyond the Fist.

Jessy came beside him. "The defenses are up as you asked, Lord Commander. Our small retinue is left with only eighty-three, inclusive of the wounded."

"How many wounded?"

"Twelve."

He nodded. "See to it the men rest well before the evening and keep wary guards around us. We can't afford to let the White Walkers befall upon us again." Jessy affirmed his words with a nod and left.

From the horizons around the Fist, there were rocky-snowy mountains to the left, which was the Skirling Pass and the streaming river of the Antler. No far from them but you wouldn't want to walk there. To the north of the Fist were hilly snowy regions. To his left were the plains of snows. To the south was the Haunted Forest from where they came out from. No White Walkers or Wights came for them now. Why? 

More satchels of dragonglasses were discovered and so far they accumulated about thirteen satchels of them. He stored them on the horses once the sappers found nothing more. Each satchels came with a comely numbers of dragonglass. Twenty each satchels. He gave one dragonglass to each of his rangers should they even encounter a White Walker. Come the noon, everyone took their lunch meal silently with dread and shock. Now that they had reached the Fist, their next objective was to head back for Whitetree and regrouped there with the other rangers and the wildlings. Forget about going to the Skirling Pass and the River Antler. He had lost many black brothers just to reach the Fist.

He sat around a campfire with the rest of his brothers. A cooking pot in the center above the fire, boiling of stews. Jessy sat beside him and Winter nearby them. It was silent around them. No words coming from their mouths but the expression on his brothers' faces said everything. 

"We will head back and regrouped at Whitetree, then we can go back to Castle Black." said Taimoor to them suddenly. They looked to him with queer and tired eyes.

"How are going back there? The Others has claimed the Haunted Forest and I don't want us to go back there."

"It's our only hope to get through the Haunted Forest. We can't risk going around the Haunted Forest in hostile land now. Not to the East or the West, but through south sharply." Jessy backed Taimoor with this one.

"Very well," the ranger conceded. "How long are we going to be here?"

"Before nightfall befalls on us, we will leave this god forsaken lands. And then we'll-"

"Lord Commander!" shouted one of the watch rangers. He ran closer to them. "Lord Commander, you should see this. Around the Fist, a very large host nor far from us, coming to us!"

They hurried their legs to the edge of the Fist. "By the gods..." The sight came to their eyes was too much. An army of wights led by the White Walkers and the Night King in front of them. Coming for them.

"Archers! Notched your arrows!" shouted Jessy. The watchers loaded their arrows with flame. "Loose!" They released the string and let loose a very small line volley of flaming arrows on the marching undead army. When the first volley rained down on them, the wights ran towards their position. This undead army was at least three or four hundred thousand strong, from what he could estimate.

"Defensive position!" Taimoor shouted the orders this time. The watchers with longbows and arrows kept releasing volleys of flaming arrows to the coming wights.  _The coming storm._ The guards with swords and torches were relieved of their post and make their way up to the Fist. Forming two squadrons of twenty armed brothers left and right at the entrance of the fist. Some of the horses were readied along with the ones that carried the dragonglasses. They were ready for departing. 

"Lord Commander, you should leave and warn the others at Whitetree." said one of his rangers beside him, his longsword sheathed.

"What?"

"Go with the rest to Whitetree! We will defend the Fist with our lives to halt them and to screen your movement! Go, and don't loose the dragonglasses! We'll do what we can from here!"

Taimoor, Winter, First Steward Jessy and sixteen other rangers left the Fist with their horses and back into the Haunted Forest. How Taimoor hated this fucking forest was beyond but he had no other choices. He had to warn the rest at Whitetree and he must make it out alive for his brothers risking their lives defending and screening at the Fist. He must not let their lives down in vain. All the fastest speed on the horses' hooves. Eight rangers were carrying torches while the rest sheathed their swords. Again and always, Winter was the one to lead them to Whitetree. Taimoor had forgotten the path already due to the ambush earlier. So far, no wights or White Walkers were following them.  _They're all at the Fist, killing my brothers there._

They couldn't rest now since it was a very desperate time. Their objective? Survive, and reach Whitetree. No stopping and keep pressing on. This small group could reached Whitetree faster than a larger retinue could. Perhaps maybe they could gallop until a day before Whitetree, then make a small break and continue again. Nothing bothered them when they galloped forward. But worst case scenario with their situation now, night had dawned upon them. The only light they had was the torches but nothing more. The moonlight were giving them any good and only against them.

"We keep moving forward, Jessy. No stop, you hear me? No stopping until we are forced to." His steward nodded quickly without any words or protesting. They had to forced march to Whitetree no matter the options now.

Two days passed with continuing of forced galloping to Whitetree tiredly, they finally reached the village of Whitetree. It was so good to see the large weirwood tree in his sight and pavilions erected around it. The smoking chimneys and lively abodes. The ranger that was watching and guarding sounded the horn as soon as they saw Taimoor's group. The brothers opened a way for his group to enter the village of Whitetree but gave them the queer worried looks.

"Lord Commander, you have returned! Wha-why are you left like this?" Vertra and Ali looked at the remaining rangers of the two hundred that set off to the Fist. 

He had to tell them the truth desperately. "We were ambushed and attacked by wights and the White Walkers. Barak is right. We have to go back to Castle Black now. See to it the next morn of the dawn, everyone including the black brothers is ready to set off. I want no one leaving anyone or anything behind. Got that, Ali and Vertra?" 

They looked puzzled. "What? What are you talking about, Lord Commander, White Walkers and Wights? Are you sure."

"You have good eyes to look at the rest of my group that set off days ealier, Ali. Make preparations, we leave for Castle Black now, and send ravens to all the castles on the Wall. I want horses fed well and the men, women and children too."

"At once, Lord Commander. But my lord, are you sure?"

He nodded. "I am very sure, Ali. Winter is here, and the storms that is to come."

_We have return, Lord Commander._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The White Walkers' coming, and with them, with their massive army of undead marching south - to the Wall. I tried to make Taimoor's retinue to follow like the Scout's Regiment in the japanese anime series, Attack on Titan. I hope I did it right. :D
> 
> Now that the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch is marching south for the Second Great Meeting in the God's Eye with the Lords and Ladies of Westeros. We'll see that meeting in the coming chapters. Also, I never meant to hurt anyone of their beliefs during the discussions between Barak and Taimoor. I'm an atheist but I respect others' beliefs too. 
> 
> "It is easy to be brave behind a castle wall."  
> \- Welsh proverb.
> 
> "The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears."  
> \- Geoffrey Chaucer, Canterbury Tales, The Knights Tale
> 
> Next chapter: Basit  
> (It would be mostly a battle point-of-view between the feuding house of Lannister and Tyrell.)


	3. Basit I [Battle of the Ocean Road]

"Is everything ready?" asked Basit Tyrell to his war council. They sat around a round oak table which his vassal lords and ladies. Lord Bajaro Florent of Bightwater Keep, Lord Alexander and Lady Rochelle Redwyne of the Arbor, Lord Gaurav Hightower of Hightower, Lord Illias Tarly of Horn Hill and his lady wife Lady Ashley Tarly, and many more others rounding about their seats. 

Lord Illias Tarly nodded. "Yes, my lord. All of your bannermen is ready." Lord Tarly was his overall first commander of his army, second by Lord Bajaro Florent.

"Good. And how many is outside of Highgarden ready to march?"

"Somewhere around ninety-thousand."

Good, he thought. The Lannisters were hours away from marching down the ocean road from Crakehall. Lord Alexius Lannister had taken Old Oak by force. "And the fleet, Lord Redwyne?"

"All is prepared, Lord Tyrell. Awaiting your orders to commence." he replied, smiling lightly.

He remembered something about the mercenaries. "What of the mercenaries that we wanted to hire? Are they in our ranks?"

The Lord of Brightwater Keep and Hightower exchanged looks. Lord Gaurav cleared his throat, uneasy. "The Lord of Lannister countered us by hiring almost all of the mercenaries to his army. So far, we only have the Justiciars, Company of the Marksman and the Kingswood Lancers."

The Justiciars, Company of the Marksman and the Kingswood Lancers were one of the major sellsword companies in Westeros. The Justiciars round up about three thousand experienced men-at-arms during the War of the Houses though they were not as renowned since they only harass and ambush Baratheons bannermen at that time. Still, they would be of good use for today. Company of the Marksman were keen longbowmen with accurate accuracy and they were quite famous. Their headquarters were located west of Highgarden, near the river Mander. They called themselves the Sheering Archers. About two thousand Sheering Archers would be in their ranks. Then we have the infamous berserkers of the Kingswood Lancers. They could also be known as The White Company, were lancers and exiled knights from previous wars. They round up to about seven thousand lancers at their disposal. 

"Excluding our bannermen numbers, the total sellswords companies we have hired totaled up twelve thousand." said Lady Rochelle.

"So the Lannisters bought the Silver Guard, West-South Grand Company, Landsknecht, Condottieri, and the rest?"

Lord Florent and Lord Gaurav Hightower nodded slowly. Basit sighed. "They are the best available mercenaries around now, and the Lannisters snatched them with their golds." Basit was frustrated a little. "No matter for that now. We have the numbers against them. Lady Ashley, is there any words from the Martells?"

"Yes, my lord," she produced a letter out from her sleeves. "This letter came last night from Sandstone. Written by Princess Laura Martell." Lady Ashley slid the letter away from her to the Lord of Highgarden. It was already opened as the seal weren't there. He opened it and read it.

 _Greetings, Lord Basit Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden and the Warden of the South_ ,

_I have written this note to tell you that House Martell will be fighting for you against the power hunger and spoiled Lannisters. My husband, Prince Abhishek Martell has muster his forces of thirty-five and is now marching up the Prince's Pass. I wish you victory against the Lannisters, and don't you both die. The fate of House Tyrell and House Martell along with our alliance must not die in vain. Long live the Sunspear-Rose alliance._

_Princess Laura Martell, of House Yronwood_

"They're coming as we speak now?" asked Basit.

"Yes, they're a day's march before reaching Highgarden. After that, we can combined together. The only thing is," Lady Ashley took a gulp from her silver goblet, then continued. "The Lannisters are a few hours marching down from Old Oak now. My scouts have been moving forth and back for reports."

Basit realized this was the same campaign by Lord Lannister when he came down the ocean road during the War of the Houses. Old Oak fell first and again now. He could not repeat what was the Tyrell's outcome during the Lannister campaign in the Reach, more important not to obtained any more defeat from Lord Alexius Lannister. "See to it we have our bannermen ready to march within the next coming hour. Prepare yourselves."

"I recommend we have a  _parley_  with the Lannisters. That would buy us more time and then Prince Martell can join us. I recommend our marching formation in line formations. Halberds in front, then swordsmen and men-at-arms, then finally our archers. We can put our sellswords in the rears and reserves." suggested Lord Tarly. "Our cavalries in the flanks as well."

"Approved." Basit said. "Set up fortifications against the Lannisters. Lord Florent and Lord Tarly, you are going with the van to be prepared. Lord and Lady Redwyne, you go back to the Arbor and prepare the fleet to the Sunset Sea. The rest of you will wait here and march together with the main bulk."

"Aye!" everyone cried in agreement.

Before the meeting ended, Lady Ashley stood from her seat with a new letter on her hand. "I received another letter from the Hand of the King, Lady Rox. She said to put down our arms or-"

"Screw that." interrupted Basit in annoyance. "We're at war here and the Reach is in danger. I cannot allow the Lannisters to freely plunder my lands as he likes. I'm sure he won't be showing any mercy this time."  _If we give him a victory at the ocean road, then Highgarden will be in ashes and rubble._ "My lords, how many men does Lord Alexius have?"

"Excluding the sellsword companies he bought, around seventy-thousand veteran bannermen. Including the sellswords companies, about ninety-eight thousand."

He sighed.  _He'll beat us all again._  he thought, worryingly. Yet he said, "What about the Lord of Arryn? Have they declared for anyone?"

"No, my lord. Lord Stefan Arryn sent no letters back to us. However, Lord Prakash and Lady Isabella Stark has declared for House Lannister and is now marching down the kingsroad with his mighty host."

House Tully could no longer muster up their bannermen with their stunning defeat at the Siege of Golden Tooth. The sudden surprised relief force from the Lannisters caught them off guard. The Arryn of the Vale would not march nor declare for anyone with the indecisive outcome battle at the gold road with the Lannisters. If there was anyone that could match up the military minded genius of Lord Alexius, it would be Lord Stefan. With the Starks marching down the kingsroad with his host it would only be a matter of time that they reach the westerlands within the coming days or weeks. Prince Abhishek was not far from Highgarden now. If Basit could buy time for the Prince of Dorne, they could join their host and smash the Lannisters at the ocean road.  _Buy time, and we will crush the lions._

"The war council is adjourned. I thank you, lords and ladies."

Basit returned to his bedchamber, his squire waiting for him beside the armor stand. There was his hauberk on his squire's hands. His helmet, on top of the armor stand, was a pale-white gold carvings or thorny roses with an open-close visor. It also had a feather plumes of green and gold feathers. The plackart and the pouldron both had a pure gold rose carvings on both sides and the main one in the breastplate, which was larger. Both of his gauntlets were also richly decorated in gold lines and carvings. Fauld of four lames to cover his upper waist. His tasset to protect his lower waist. The cuisse, poleyns and the sabaton made up the rest of the protection of his legs. It was shiny and unscratched from the war previously.

Then there was his longsword. A valyrian steel of about one and half meter long. Basit named it Rose's Thorn. The pommel was rounded with silver steel encrusted with rose crusted gold in the center of the pommel. The grip was made of black ironwood and a comfortable firm of holding the spiraled grip. The cross-guard was unusually straight and there was no rain guard. The blade itself was the meter long, its edges were so sharp that it could hacked down a thick branch easily. It was beautiful, the Rose's Thorn.

His squire named Lothor, no more than fifteen, greeted him with a smile. Basit walked closer to his armor stand and gestured to help him get prepare for it. Lothor pulled out the plackart first and he helped Basit straped it to him. The plackart was in two-halves but there was hinges and straps that made it into one. Lothor locked and tightened the hinges and the straps. After that came the pouldrons and the gauntlets. It started to feel that he was going into a combat fight, or a joust. Fauld, tasset, cuisse, poleyns and the sabaton came later and lastly his butgonet helmet. He closed the visor and he could only see some visible sights but it was effective for protection. His squire Lothor was going for his longsword but Basit stopped him.

"No need, Lothor. I'll do it myself." The boy nodded and stepped aside. Basit took his sheathed sword with its cover and strapped it to his belt around his waist. He only armed himself with one arm as carrying more would burdened him heavier. After all, Rose's Thorn was enough for close combat. He looked to his squire who was looking for anymore orders from his master. "Go and arm yourself, Lothor. We're going to battle so arm yourself however you. Light or heavy, up to you."

"Yes, m'lord." He left off him chamber, leaving Basit alone for the rest. They had break their fast earlier with fine cuisine which satisfied everyone's belly. The Reach was too fertile that fruits, vegetables and livestock grew healthy and heartily.

Lord Alexius and his bannermen did plunder the Reach a lot but it didn't devastated the dirt and soil for crops to grow. No, they only took food and livestock as they progressed their campaign. Much like his grandfather, Alexius was of a genius mind, especially in warfare like his grandfather. But unlike his grandfather, he had a very strict policy on his bannermen's discipline. No rape, no killing innocents, no plundering without consents, or they would be hanged or sent to the Wall. Like the late Lord Randyll Tarly. He remembered the Battle of Bitterbridge when the Lannisters arrived with their mighty host of seventy-thousand. Basit knew the commanders of the Lannister army. Lord Iman Marbrand of Ashemark, Lady Tam Lefford of Golden Tooth, Lord Jorn Westerling of the Crag, Lady Caitlin Clegane of Clegane's Keep, Lord Ayush Crakehall of Crakehall. Though the overall commander was Lord Alexius Lannister.

While waiting, Basit remembered his defeat at the Battle of Bitterbridge. How that ancient castle fell to the Lannisters with relative ease. He thought about it. 

Bitterbridge was a small castle surrounded with walls made of cobblestones and timbers. The stonebridge too, was made of ancient cobblestones during the Age of Heroes. The Lannisters took their luxury by erecting up their thousands of pavilions and sent raiders to plunder the surrounding lands for food and livestock. Basit could see the banners of House Lefford, Marbrand, Clegane, Westerling, Crakehall, Swyft, Serrett, and many more vassals sworn to House Lannister.

Their crossbowmen and longbowmen of red rained down arrows and bolts upon the Castle Bitterbridge's garrison forces. The fifth day was the day the Lannisters was battering down the castle gate.

"Archers, fire at will!"

"My lord, the Lannisters are rowing with their boats to cross the river Mander. If they land they'll-" the officer that shouted took a crossbow through his head. His lifeless body fell from the battlements to the flat cobbled ground, hard.

The Lannisters were at the gates with their ram. They were trying to batter down the gate and made a  _bang!_  sound with every batter. Each bang sound made Basit's heart twisted, like how the waves came crashing against the shores. It was a terrifying sound they make. "Halberds to the gates!" shouted Basit. More of his bannermen came with their halberds and painted shields.

"Lord Gaurav, I want you to take detachments and see to it that the Lannisters didn't cross the river Mander."  _Or they'll starve us out to death for as long as they want to._

"Yes, my lord!" He nodded and left.

Halberds men-at-arms were forming a defensive box behind the gate of Castle Bitterbridge with their shields up and sharpened halberds pointing towards the gates. Basit could feel their expression, their heartbeats too. Basit's own heartbeat was beating fast. He was a fool to separate his host into smaller forces to defend other places. Now he paid the price; Alexius' main host had arrived in bitterbridge to destroy him and his fellow bannermen.

 _Bang!_ came the haunting and horrifying sound of the battering ram. "For Casterly Rock!" the men shouted behind the wooden gate.

Basit was an idiot to scheme against the Lannisters years ago with the Martells. When the Lannisters came down from the ocean road, he thought he could take them on and defeat them at Old Oak and the Golden Grove. He was so wrong in that. Basit had a taste of defeats twice already. Now at Bitterbridge, he could be achieving his third defeat in a row.

"For Casterly Rock!" the Lannister bannermen cried.  _bang!_

He looked around him; the situation. His archers on the bannermen were still firing their arrows and bolts but they were picked off as soon as their heads were revealed. His men beside him, arm to arm - shoulder to shoulder, were muttering in praying. Their expression were scared and hollow. Only some remained passive and stern but most lost their courage to stand. Their hearts in dismay. Basit could join them too in silent, for the situation seemed hopeless to all of them.  _Yet, why do I still keep fighting?_  

When he declared war against House Lannister, he thought he crush them since their reputation was abysmal by many other houses. When he declared war on the proud lions he thought Lord Lannister would be pressed on so many positions. From the west by the Greyjoys, from the north by Tullys and Starks and Arryns, from the east by Baratheons and Targaryens, and finally from the south by the Tyrells. But he was wrong. It turned out to full-scale war. He thought he would had support from other great houses but no (except from House Martell). He made a grave mistake on declaring war. He made a stupid act by plotting with the Martells to murder the late Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa, Alexius' parents. Basit regretted that day, the look on their eyes when he slit their throats. And now he was paying the iron price.

For the Lannisters had come down to Basit's lands for his bittersweet revenge and give the Tyrells a taste of his iron fist. "For Casterly Rock!"  _bang!_

"Hear Me Roar!" 

The wooden gates was smashed in the middle to tiny wooden splinters. It left a large hole and one could see the silvery head of a lion that just rammed the wooden gate to uselessness. And the red cloaks of Lannister lions came in with their high morals and roaring voices and their weapons an0d armors. First came the red cloaks with crossbowmen and they took their shot against Basit's halberds men-at-arms who stood firmed. One by one fell by the shots which were unexpected to the Lord of Highgarden. Yet his halberdiers stood their ground firmly and strongly. That was when the Lannisters swordsmen, spearmen and many other various weapons they wield switched and smashed against Tyrells' shields.

That was the day he lost at Bitterbridge. Third defeat. When Lord Gaurav failed to halt the Lannisters when they cross the river Mander with their rowboats and started to surround the castle. He, and his bannermen no more than two thousand fled back through the back gate while his other bannermen fought for their lives at Bitterbridge.

He returned back from his reminiscent. He thought about it for a moment.  _I will not repeat what happen when the Lannisters campaign in the Reach, in my lands._  he declared.  _I will defeat the Lannisters whatever possible ways I can get. But what can I do to stall him for a day or two before the Martells can join us?_

Once Lothor armed and got himself a heavy plate armor and a longsword, they went to the camp just outside of Highgarden. Tens of thousands of his bannermen there. Almost of half of them were seasoned from the War of the Houses. Most of his army consisted of fresh green boys. The others were sellsword companies. Every bannermen was armed and ready to march and pavilions were beginning to bring down to pack and campfires flushed out by the water. Men were also mounted on their stallion in the many. All was prepare for the coming battle, all that was needed was Basit's order and the sounds from the horns of the officers.  _Another pointless war,_ he thought.  _A victory for the Lannisters or Tyrells?_

On his left side was Lord Bajaro Florent on his mounted war stallion of grayish dark fur, Lady Rochelle Redwyne on a white horse. To his right was Lady Ashley Tarly on a oiled brown stallion. Lady Tarly was a formidable battle-commander like her husband, though, better in terms of tactical wise whilst her husband was much more to strategical minded. All the same Basit was glad to have them as his trusted and second commanders of the army in the field for House Tyrell.

"Before we go, Lord Basit," said Lady Ashley Tarly to his right. "We received a letter from the the north and the iron islands. House Stark and House Greyjoy has declared to fight beside the Lannisters."

Basit had anticipated this. Their so-called Lion-Wolf-Kraken pact was no secret to hidden ears. They have been rumors about the alliance.  _They mean to combined the Lannister-Greyjoy fleet against my Redwyne's, Lannister-Stark host marching down the ocean road and the gold road with their mighty host._  If the Lannister and the Stark host combined together, they outnumbered the Tyrell's and the Martell's. He replied, "Can we send a letter to House Stark and counter them to attack them at the Lannister rears? As far as I know, the Starks has no love for the Lannisters."

"Lord Alexius is half-Stark." Lady Ashley reminded him. "They have no love for the Lannisters, that is true, but since he has no offspring to be his heir to Casterly Rock and the westerlands, I think the Starks just want to help to be in power to claim it should the Blacklion fall in battle."

Lord Alexius was attractive yet he wasn't betrothed to anyone nor have any children or bastard children. That left his position quite vulnerable to be attacked but not directly since they didn't dare to challenge him face to face. Like his grandfather, Alexius ruled with an iron fist though better than Tywin. The new greatest lion of the rock, they hailed him. Indeed he was when he proved to be a deadly threat to the realm.

“Didn’t he acquire something exotic from King Euron Greyjoy before Lord Lannister mounted his head on a spike?” Basit asked, trying to recall. “A set of an armor… I can’t seem to recall.”

“Full set of valyrian steel armor,” she answered for him. “Yes. He got that when they were fighting at Pyke. Euron was cunning and unpredictable at most times, but Alexius was much more dreadful and bloodthirsty and dangerous to everyone.”

Another reason for the current Lannister lord to be more like his grandfather rather than his own lord father. Euron’s flagship,  _Silence_ , was put to the torch right after Euron was killed. The Lannisters took all the treasure and wealth from Euron’s pirating. “Yet the Starks still wants to back the Lannisters in this? Doesn’t the Warden of the North knows how dangerous this new lion is?”

“I am very sure he is well aware of that. Like I said, perhaps they want Casterly Rock since Alexius and Prakash and Isabella share the Stark blood.” She said.

Basit kicked his horse and rode forth the path ahead and the others followed him from behind. Many of his bannermen were on their box formations in many columns ahead waiting. They were gonna march in line formations rather than in column since they  _were_  going to battle. Column would be faster in the marching process but weaker in defenses, which would give not enough time to form the line. After all, the Lannisters were marching down the ocean road. Their way.

Other than what the Lord of Casterly Rock had acquired, he was also known as Alexius the Blacklion. Basit remembered what he wore when he came down from the ocean road. His armor he wore was all black; a silver opened visor with spikes coming out from the temple of the helm and also at the top centre of his helm. He wore a black painted mail as his secondary protection for his head. His breastplate was dark gray with a black lion emblazoned. What was weird was that he wore naught but a black robe, dark as shadow. His greaves were almost as dreadful as his helmet. The Lannister Army had their own elite special lancers known as the Black Lions. They carry the banner of a rampant gray lion on a black field. Alexius’ personal lancers and bodyguards.

The day was sunny yet he felt the cool breeze gently brushing such soothingly against his skin. With plenty of provisions and wagons full of supplies and weapons and armors, they were more than fitting to go on a campaign, but first he must win against the Lannisters in the ocean road today. The sun was atop of him when he looked up, shining brightly upon him.  _May the Father blessed us all and my enemy, may the Mother have mercy on the weak, may the Warrior show courage and strength to the true, and may the Stranger take those who are unworthy._  He prayed.

“We will buy time for Prince Abhishek to join with us tomorrow. But if the plans didn’t work out as we intended it to happen, I want my vanguard to halt the Lannisters to buy time for me. Lady Tarly, you are in command of the vanguard of fifteen thousand bannermen. I trust you will try to deal the most damage you can give to the lions before you fled.”

She smiled and nodded. “I can’t defeat them but damaging them I could.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Perhaps you might just be the next Randyll Tarly before your husband do.”

“If that so I might just be a match to Lord Alexius. Who knows.” Lady Ashley shrugged.

When Basit waved his hand to his signalers they sounded trumpets of march. Basit and his officers were the first to lead. Lady Ashley Tarly was already ahead with the vanguard. Basit’s left and right was protected with his knights. He could hear the steel footsteps of soldiers’ march so loud behind him. His host was quite massive since Mace Tyrell’s and they were to march against the Lannisters in the ocean road. _Different time and another war,_ he thought, _would this be the same result or different?_

His commanders in the field had placed halberds men-at-arms at the frontline and the rears to protect from cavalry charge. Within them was his versatile swordsmen and spearmen supported by archers and the reserves. They carried many colorful banners beyond Basit’s count. But with this marching speed since they were in line march rather than column marching, it would take at least two hours to reach there at Old Oak, or to face the Lannisters. Basit was well aware what he was going to face against the Lannisters. The West-South Grand Company, the Silver Guard, Landsknecht, Condottieri and many other more sellsword companies he had hired. But the worst of them all was the ever bloodthirsty and berserkers Black Lions Lancers. They had the most ominous reputation throughout the War of the Houses with plundering and kill every enemy on sight as they go. They didn’t carry the standard House Lannister banner, well they do, but it was a gray rampant lion on a black field. When the Black Lions charged they produce a very horrifying war cry and their black of armors was another story.

What Basit’s strategy was to halt the Lannisters at the ocean road, until the Martell host arrived in time to overwhelmed the Lannister host then they could march against the Stark host before they could regroup. Though they weren’t certain where the Stark would come, either from the ocean road or the gold road but that didn’t matter. If they destroy the Lannisters at the ocean road, the Starks would go back and defend Moat Cailin again as they did throughout the War of the Houses duration.

Ashley’s vanguard would be carrying the peace banner with the Seven-Pointed Star on them first for the parley. Just enough time to stall the Lannisters and their host for the Martells to linked up with him. Though Basit couldn’t predict about the Lannister motives. Should Basit arrived in the field of battle with his vanguard smashed, then the Lannisters had broken the sacred rights by attacking the gods’ peace banner. Even if it they did smashed Ashley’s vanguard there would be informers riding back to Basit and informed him of the matter. But so far, none came. So Basit placed his hopes on Ashley’s skills to prolong them.

 _The Martells must join us before Lord Alexius snatch a victory against Ashley_ , he told himself. _They have about the same number as me, twice the brain in skill commanding._

His bannermen was afraid of the West-South Grand Company, the Condottieri, the Landsknecht but the worst of them all was the Black Lion Lancers that gave the dreadful drop of morale to their enemies. Always they strike at unpredictable places. They were swift as thunderstorms and penetrate their enemies like lion’s bite, their lancers were lion’s claws. And they roar truly like a beast.

There were other great formed house company like the Lannisters had the Black Lion Lancers. In the north of Winterfell, Prakash formed the Sons of Winter. The Sons of Winter consisted of the hardest warriors armed with a war axes, leather boiled with mail protection of the body and sallet helmets. None of them ride on horses but they were pretty dangerous on the battlefield when face head on. In the midst of the War of the Houses, Prakash had about seven thousand Sons of Winter though Basit couldn’t tell how much there were now.

In the Vale of Arryn, the Lord Stefan “Falcon Knight” Arryn established the elite Winged Knights of the Vale. Armet helmets and a plated cuirass to protect their body and their hardened lances made of the thickest wood that could be found on the Vale. Should their lances broke in the midst of their fighting they switched to their swiftly sabre blades that could slice up a person’s joint with a swift strike. Lord Stefan proved that when he attacked the Royal Army at Maidenpool and Antler. Winged Knights of the Vale rounded to about twelve thousand of them.

House Tully had a queer elite troops of their own called the Scaled Men. When they were introduced to Westeros in the War of the Houses, most lords and ladies laughed until they proven themselves victorious against the Arryns and the Starks at the riverlands. They were of no joke when in battle. Funny they were but deadly. They were created in memoir of the Blackfish with his renowned scaly armor. At first they had about nine thousand but with the devastating blow of defeat by the Black Lion Lancers at the Golden Tooth, only four thousand remained.

Lord Akshay Baratheon of Storm’s End heard all these new elite troops being formed up created his own. The Storming Antlers were stoic, hardened lads that wielded greatswords and warhammers without any shields. Their armor were made of plate and their great helms of antlers. Roshan had a bitter taste of them at the Siege of Brozegate. From what the reports counted about seven thousand of them strong.

South to hotlands of Dorne, House Nymerios Martell quickly remove all Sand Snakes and officially created their own called the Scorpions. Consisted a mixture of men-at-arms and cavalries they were known to carry a polearms with two sharped pincers, like a scorpion. They were fierce and used poison whenever they could, they received their first battle and first defeat at the Prince’s Pass from the Lannisters but quickly reformed at Sandstone. Basit didn’t know how much House Martell owned them.

King David and Queen Annie had longed kept their own personal elite guards called the Royal Wolf Guards. Preferring halberds as their choice of steel, they donned in a silver glimmer of gray plated armor with a dark fur coat with the Stark direwolf emblem sewed on it. Their second weapon was longsword attached to their belts should they lost their halberds. Most of Royal Wolf Guards carried a standard Stark shield while the others prefer nothing else.

The Greyjoys, on the other hand, prefer to keep their traditional raiders of Ironborns as their special troops.

About half an hour passed and they were still marching on the ocean road. No sign of Ashley’s vanguard nor Alexius’s host anywhere in his sight. The sun was still up above him but it was slowly leaning towards west of the horizon to set for dusk. That would be good since most battle commanders prefer their battles took place on dawn. But he wasn’t sure about Lord Alexius, though. Basit knew he couldn’t take the defensive position of building palisades with trenches. The Lannisters would just hurl stones and bolts and flaming shots against his makeshift fort and burn them alive. If he were to win the engagement to come, he must face him head on. _Lord Randyll Tarly smashed Robert’s host at Ashford with his vanguard._ thought Basit. _If Ashley could do that, we can march to Casterly Rock._

All that said, he must first achieved victory from Alexius. Five minutes passed and a rider carrying the Tyrell banner was galloping quickly to Basit’s position.

“My lord!” the rider called out, donned his plate armor. He sounded as if he was in a hurry of desperation. “My lord! Lady Ashley sent me the words to you. Lady Ashley’s vanguard is ambushed and smashed at Old Oak!”

That took Basit by surprised. “Wher… H-How?” he asked, his tone in despair. _No, please don’t. It can’t be, not now._

“We saw no signs of the Lannister host at south of Old Oak. Lady Ashley insisted we pressed to Old Oak. There were Lannister garrison there so we besiege Old Oak until… until…” the rider was out of his breath.

“Until what!?” Basit demanded.

“The Black Lion Lancers appeared.” he said, terrified. “We gave them a chase with our cavalries, Lady Tarly commanded, then they surprised us with their horsearchers and mounted crossbowmen. Then they blocked us in the south with their men-at-arms and all and then the slaughter began.”

The first phase of battle had begun at Old Oak. He hoped Lady Ashley would smash the Lannister host or at least stall them but she failed. “Where is the Lady Tarly?”

“Captured, my lord.” he said. “I was one of the many few who escaped the fighting.”

“You said it was Lady Ashley who sent you to report to me.”

The rider nodded. “She did, right before they attacked us.”

Basit’s vanguard was crushed before they could do anything to harm the Lannisters. Lady Ashley fell into the lion’s trap there. All ten thousand of them, perished. Only a few survived. If they took no prisoners then Lady Tarly’s fate… No, he must be brave. Stern, stoic and brave for his bannermen. There wasn’t any sure if Lady Ashley fell in the battle but if there is the least honor in Lord Lannister, she might just be alive for ransom. She is the granddaughter-in-law of Lord Randyll Tarly. A renowned battle commander during Robert’s Rebellion and War of the Five Kings. So he would pay any amount of golden dragons to ransom her back or otherwise his reputation would be devastated by this.

“Get in your post, rider, we march to meet the enemy.”

An hour passed of the marching there weren’t much to see on the green countryside. Basit sniffed the air; it smells of freshness, but also smoke and blood mostly. _We are getting close to Lord Alexius_. Old Oak wouldn’t be that far if you were riding with a few companions with haste, but with a large host behind you would take an hour or two to reach Old Oak from Highgarden.

When Old Oak came to the Tyrell’s eyesight, they saw bodies of earlier engagement that took part between Ashley’s vanguard and the Lannister army. Not only did they saw the bodies of the dead the Lannister army was there in formation lines waiting for them. They were divided into three separated army groups; the center group, the left group and the right group. The Lannisters also left a small gap between them. All three groups was flanked and protected by their cavalries. Basit could see the sellsword companies Lord Lannister had hired. He placed them in the reserves and the rears. Also some at the front.

Basit looked to his commanders behind him over his shoulder and said, “Take position in lines and archers and crossbowmen behind infantry lines.”

“Pikes in front, archers behind!” the officers shouted. Men-at-Arms with their pikes passed through Basit’s halberdiers’ lines and took position in the front. The second line was the halberds then the archers and the crossbowmen.”

The other officers bellowed their directed orders to the others as they moved away from him. Tyrell host quickly moved  to their given position to form the battle lines.

“My lord Tyrell! Look!” pointed one of his captains. When Basit looked to where he pointed, there were a small detachment of Lannisters in their mounts galloping their way to in between the Lannister army and the Tyrell army. They carried the peace banner of white background with seven-pointed star. _A parley_. Basit thought, dreading. There were at least fifty black lion guards with Lord Alexius.

“Guards, follow me. It seems that Lord Lannister wants to have a parley.” said Basit.

One of his captain-guard snorted and spat. “He just started the war by attacking Lady Ashley’s vanguard.”

Sun rays beamed on their plated armor but it was warmth rather than the extreme heat. When Basit got closer with his own bodyguards to meet the Lannister in the center field of battle, he could see the Blacklion just _there_. He wore his dreadful looking battle armor rather than the Lannister red cloak with the lion half-helm. There he was on his black stallion; a spikey helmet with an open visor where the helm jaw doesn’t connected instead it fell down near to his neck with a very sharp end. He wore a black steel mailing that almost made his entire face a shadow except his green and blue eyes. His main was a high quality silk ‘robe’ in black and the black-gray breastplate enameled with the black rampant lion. His robe were length almost until his feet but Basit could see that he also donned in his greaves. Alexius armed himself with his valyrian steel sword called _Lionheart_ and the other one he couldn’t tell.

Basit and his bodyguards approached closer with warily. He swallowed. “Lord Lannister.” Basit nodded.

Alexius returned the nod after a short while. “Lord Tyrell.” he said, with a soft yet dangerous tone.

“I see that you have started the war by attacking my vanguard.” said Lord Tyrell. “We all thought you were a man of mercy, like your father and mother. I guess we were wrong…”

Alexius break in. “Lady Ashley Tarly besieged Old Oak even when we raised the peace banner. I guess she has small eyes to see it, or just to proud for a parley because of her family name. We attack your vanguard cause she was laddering the walls. She is fine, I assure you, but not your vanguard though.”

“I want good reasons and compensations for this, Lannister,” Basit spat angrily. “you started the war.”

“Lady Tarly _started_ the war, you mean. I have already said earlier during the treaty of King’s Landing that I will not show any more mercy to those who murdered my parents. I showed none to your vanguard, maybe I will show my gift of mercy to your Lady Tarly as well.”

“How can ten thousand men be justified against two?” argued Basit.

“Tell me why do you claim it justice when you slaughtered two innocent married couple in the rose road? My parents were on their way to Highgarden to fix the relations between us but you, _you_ have to destroy it. I came here to trade, I want those who slaughtered my father and mother including the Martells in trade for your precious Ashley.”

They all remained quiet. The gentle breeze blew around them and their banners waved like gentle waves in the ocean. Basit had to consider this _trading_ Lannister asked. He looked around the Lannister and his lackey bodyguards around him. He was now the dangerous men in Westeros. _The doom of Westeros._ King Euron Greyjoy was known to be very cunning, unpredictable and very dangerous. That was until the Lannisters invaded their island and Lord Alexius had come to a single melee against Euron Crow’s Eye. The kraken king wore himself his valyrian armor but it was no use for him. Instead of partaking the melee, the Lannisters set up ballistas around the kraken king Euron and penetrated him with the long bolts.

“I can’t do that,” said Basit, “you spoke that you would be more merciful than merciless. You broke your vow, _Lannister_.”

From what Basit could hear, Alexius chuckled lightly. “Words are wind, though. I will not repeat this again, surrender those who slew my parents and those of Martells, and you shall have back Lady Tarly.” he offered, plainly. “Refuse, I will march down to Highgarden and all your other sworn vassals put them all to the sword and the torch. What would it be, Tyrell?”

 _Buy time, and the Martells will be here by nightfall._ “You said so yourself that you are as kind as your lady mother, give me the time to consider this and you’ll have my answer by the morrow. If you still have the _kindness_ you have always claimed.”

Alexius nodded, “Very well then, Lord Tyrell. Should you fail to give me your answers tomorrow, expect slaughter.” He left off with his bodyguards of black lions tailing behind him.

The Lannisters didn’t gave up their position, though. Instead they erect their pavilions and defenses of caltrops, stakes and makeshift palisade walls around them and set quite the score of bannermen to watchful eyes. Behind them was Old Oak. Basit found it weird for the Lannister Lord to take up the defensive position. He was always the one to take the first strike and never the defending side. Could he knew? Could he knew that the Martells were coming to Basit’s request? It would explained why he was so dreadfully wanting those who participate in the plot.

He gave his commands to set up their tents and pavilions; they also set up defenses like the Lannisters had. His own pavilion was large as a king’s but his war council pavilion was bigger. When he entered the war council’s pavilion, there were an oak longtable in the middle vertically placed surrounded with seats and bedecked with wines and foods. Basit took his seat at the end of the longtable and the rest of his commanders and high-senior officers took theirs in the left and right. Servants helped pour wine to fill their goblets of silver.

Basit began, “My lords and officers, what say you all make of this trading by the Lannister?”

“A fraud one, my good lord.” declared Lord Wernmar Fossoway, son of Ser Jon Fossoway and Lady Janna Tyrell. “He attacked your vanguard and slaughtered everyone, justice he claimed it but I say nay.”

Basit took note of that, and looked the others. “And you, Lord Redwyne?”

The Redwyne Lord sat himself up after finishing his wine. “We have no news about Lord Bajaro Florent, it could be that he is killed in the battle. So I say we don’t trust this trade he asked for.”

“Aye,” supported Lord Gaurav Hightower. “Have we received any news from the Martells? Wasn’t our goal is to hold the Lannister here so that the Prince Abhishek can attacked the Lannister flanked? If so, I say we wait out till the morrow.” he ended.

“Why should we spill more blood? Hasn’t Westeros had suffered enough, let alone the Reach? My lady wife is taken hostage by the Blacklion and his ilk men.” complained Lord Alexander Tarly. Basit could his face was welling with tears. _He mourned for his wife._ He felt sympathy for his sworn bannermen, but nothing of just could be done now. “Give him the men he asked for, and returned me my lady wife!”

“We will have her back, Lord Tarly.” Basit assured him. “You want your wife back unharmed? We must first linked up with might of Dorne then perhaps we can force the Lannisters into terms or he will suffer a grudging defeat.”

“Tell me when did the Blacklion has suffered a defeat?” bellowed one of his high-senior officer.

“At Horn Hill.”

Lord Alexander spat. “That was only five thousand loss to the Lannisters. Nothing more. Should I remind you all that the Lannisters got his sweet revenge at the Battle of Highgarden?”

That made Basit fumed. He didn’t want to be reminded of that battle. “Care your tongue, Lord Tarly.” he said with an icy voice and gave him a dead glare. Alexander Tarly was red with rage on his face but he made no words to argue more.

With that being said aloud by one of his most loyal and trusted bannermen, he had no taste to continue the meeting with many words but only discussing about tactical choices for the battle on the morrow. The war council ended with just that, nothing more.

Night shone on them with its beautiful moonlight. He was back in his own pavilion. He stripped himself off his armor, cloak and his weapon on a stand and donned himself a green-and-gold doublet with a Tyrell gold rose pin to his chest, then put up his gray breech. He sat himself on a chair and table next to his lofty bed with a lit candle to light his small table, he was writing in his journal that Basit hoped one day he would published it. He would call it _Rose Journal_

 _On the fifth day, my bannermen of over a hundred thousand and I marched off to meet the Lannisters at Old Oak,_ he wrote on a new page. _Lady Ashley led the vanguard of ten thousand ahead of the main bulk to stall the Lannisters. Proven fruitless when the rider arrived with grave news. The vanguard was slaughtered by the Lannisters and Lady Ashley held captive as of now._ he added. _When we arrived there at Old Oak, the Lannisters were at their battle formations but didn’t drew their swords and arrows for a second battle. Instead, Lord Lannister arrived in the center of the battlefield between his host and mine own. He asked for a trade of those who killed his parents and in returned for Lady Tarly. I would give my answers to him on the next morn of that day, though it was only to wait for the Martells to arrive to strengthen our combined army._ He closed the book and returned the quill back into the ink pot.

He would continue his journal tomorrow’s dusk. For now, he supped alone with oat porridge, a brown hardbread and roasted sliced duck, and a flagon of Arbor gold. After finishing all his meal, he washed his throat down with the last of the Arbor gold down his throat. When he planned to sleep for the night, a page entered his pavilion abruptly which made Basit almost go for his sword.

“May I ask why you entered my pavilion?” Basit asked.

The page wore himself in the basic versatile Tyrell armor but without helmet, and armed. He straightened himself a gave Basit a bow and raised his fist to his left breast. “N’lord of Highgarden, I came here to tell you that the Knights of Qorgyle are here, and so are the Scorpions. Prince Abhishek and his host has arrived.”

They awaited them at the back of his army camp where they cover a lengthy length to screen the Martells from the Lannisters. Squire Lothor had helped Basit donned his armor again with his valyrian steel sword strapped to his belt. From their position, they could see movements of moving torches and dark silhouettes in the distant darkness. A contingent of riders were galloping their way to Basit. _So, the Martells are here then._

Prince Abhishek was smiling at them when they dismounted their mount and greeted them. A dark haired with slightly dark skinned with light goatee as his facial appearance. Though his body was not made for strength but speed, not masculine but athletic.

“Have the Lannisters known of our presence?” asked Prince Abhishek Martell.

Basit shook his head. “No, I expect them not to. Though, we can never tell. Lord Alexius Lannister positioned himself on a hill region which gives him the overview advantage.”

The Prince chuckled. “No matter if they know or not. I brought my army and they require rest from tiring march. I do hope you have enough space for my bannermen?”

He nodded. “More than enough and much to feed yours as well.” Basit smiled, then turned his head over to his shoulder. “Guards, see to it that the Martells have their spaces in the camp.” He turned back to Prince Martell again. “We can discuss this at my pavilion. Come.”

Squire Lothor had poured their goblets with dornish red to appeased the Prince of Dorne. He also placed some food on the table as well. Both Basit and Abhishek took their seat.

“So, what news have you for me?” asked the Martell Prince as he took a sip from his goblet.

Basit tore a hardbread and tossed it into his mouth, crunching it then swallowing it. “My vanguard has been slaughtered at Old Oak. Lady Ashley Tarly is captured as of now. No news about Lord Florent though.”

“Was she hoping to be Lord Randyll Tarly? This is no Ashford.” the prince chuckled. Basit gave him a stern face in which made the prince smile. “A joke, Lord Tyrell. You should be wary of our ways when we jape.”

Basit ignored that and continued. “His Grace and Her Grace are coming along with his host combined with the Baratheons. They sent a letter to me that we should lay down our arms to prevent bloodshed.”

Martell snorted in his drink. “That was broken when the Lannisters destroyed your vanguard, sadly.”

“Exactly,” agreed Basit, “me and my war council has discussed our tactical battle plans. We expect the Lannisters to take the offensive and we the defensive players. With your knights of Qorgyles and the Scorpions and your main infantry, you can attack them from the rears as how as you like.”

“I heard that the Starks and the Greyjoys has declared for House Lannister. We may be plunging ourselves and our houses into another full-scale war like the previous one.”

“It has already started when the Blacklion took their surprise against my vanguard earlier on. Besides, the Iron Fleet was reduced during the War of the Houses and the Starks have a long way marching down. Lord Prakash and Lady Isabella Stark will have to get through the Twins first.”

That did not amused the prince. His face darkened. “Is the Black Lions here?” he asked.

“Yes.” he responded.

“Did you know that they are now the most infamous and dreadful knights in Westeros? I may have my Qorgyle knights and my Scorpions, and yours of The Thorns. But are they a matched against the Black Lions? I heard that the Lannisters had hired a lot of known sellsword companies into his army. The Condottieri and the Landsknecht I feared the most.” The prince sat himself comfortably yet his face remained dark.

Basit wanted them. “I have tried to hire them but the Lannisters got them first.” Even with the combined Qorgyle Knights, Scorpions and the Thorns were no match against the Black Lions. Twenty thousand of them  was in the Lannister army, compare to the combined most feared knights in Tyrell’s and Martell’s own of fourteen thousand.

“You got your first defeat in this war, tactically not but strategically yes.” he said, giving Basit an unhealthy smiling. “Have you won a victory in any battles in the previous war? I recall not.”

“I understand my mistake, Martell.” Basit almost shouted there. He was fuming. “Don’t presume me to recall the War of the Houses’ battles. You had your taste of defeat at the Prince’s Pass I recall.” he countered.

Abhishek laughed. “A defeat for me is better than your six defeat. Alright, I will not jest anymore. I have answered to your request of aid against the Lannisters. We both have something in common goal and want justice. They had sent Ser Gregor’s head but it had done naught to satisfy the dornish people and the Martells. We want Lannister blood not the Mountain’s head.” he said in a dangerous venomous snake tone.

Basit nodded. “You want the Blacklion’s head as much as I want to, then cooperate with me in this battle. We have the good chance to destroy him and his host here tomorrow.”

“I meant to fight the Blacklion in a single combat.” he declared, the prince. “I hear he is a veteran fighter.”

That made Basit stunned. “Are you stupid or just asking for a quick death? You want to die like the Red Viper? Have you know what he did to Crow’s Eye?”

“I have heard but I meant to give him my good valyrian steel polearm with the manticore venom.”

“Don’t.” Basit didn’t plead, but he asked. “Just don’t. Why waste your entire time fighting the Blacklion which you have a slight chance of defeating him? Just follow what I said then we can destroy him and his army tomorrow.”

Prince of Dorne considered this at the moment. “Very well then.” he conceded. “I thank you for your care, Lord Tyrell, and mayhaps it is the wise choice too.”

Basit sighed in relief. “Let’s not make stupid decisions now and look back to our mistake and learn it to make a better. We must crushed the Lannisters before the King and his host arrive if we want justice. As we all know, the Blacklion is the last of the Lannister lineage.”

Martell frowned. “I recall he has cousins, nephews, nieces and aunts and uncles.”

“Yes but what can they do to bring back the glory Lord Alexius brought to them?”

He saw the point there and conceded again. “At first light of tomorrow then.”

Basit nodded again. “Earlier we had a parley with him. He expect my answer on the morn. And you know mine now.”

They both smiled. “Justice.”

Early in the morning the sky was still in blue and the sun had only started to rise up on the horizons of the east. Campfires were put out by the flashes of water and all the soldiers were already in formations outside the camp. Pikemen took the first line that spread a long way seconded by the halberds then the men-at-arms. Archers and crossbowmen in the very front in loose formation and his spear sergeants covered the flanks. His Thorn knights and other cavalries were at the rears too for protection. Basit took the command from behind the army but not in the camp. Squire Lothor was behind him, all clad in his plate armor and helmet. His commanders was beside him as well and messengers were at his disposals to carry out new orders should anything be changed.

Basit donned his armor as he had always done when in war and battles. Rose’s Thorn was sheathed from its scabbard. Basit’s burgonet helmet visor was opened for better view. Basit’s whole host occupied the ocean road.

Prince Abhishek’s main host took the other side for the flanks. All of his cavalries was placed in his right wing since Basit had covered the left for him. Desert archers in loose formation was the foremost front before the dornish infantries. There was a small pavilions erected behind the Dornish army host. _Martell’s command post_ , he thought.

What Basit hoped that this surprised reinforcements of Martells would forced the Lannister to find a better ground, yet they did not and the Lord Lannister had already prepared his battle lines as early as Basit and Abhishek did. The Blacklion was outnumbered two-to-one yet he remained on his ground. He knew why. _Alexius hoped that he could smash two armies both at once in a day._ _And he could…_

“Squire, sound the horn.” Basit commanded and his squire obeyed.

Squire Lothor took out his horn and blow, producing the horn sound of the first command. _Vaaroooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!_

Both Tyrell and Martell skirmishers moved forward slowly in alert. There was a good long empty battlefield between the Lannisters and the Tyrells and Martells. The Lannisters did not responded with moving their archers, instead, Lord Alexius sent out his light cavalries and mounted archers and crossbowmen from Sarsfield in the many. With the light cavalries charging at their archer position, Basit quickly ordered them to get back into his pikemen lines. So did the Prince.

Light cavalries was no match to heavy cavalries. “Send in the knights.”

 _Vaaarooooooooooooooooooooooooo!_ the horn sounded again.

The knights galloped their way to scare off Lannister light cavalries, and it did. Some were caught in the fighting but most managed to get away. The Dornish did the same. But then the mounted horsearchers and mounted crossbowmen didn’t retreat and was circling around in the battlefield, sending volleys of arrows and bolts against his knights who was slower. When the knights of Tyrells and Martells came near to them, they quickly moved away from them but kept firing from horseback as they ran.

In the meanwhile of the skirmishing, Lannister foot archers and crossbowmen moved forward slowly along with the support of the infantry. Then Basit realized, the Blacklion meant to scare off Basit’s archers by sending in his light cavalries and his mounted horse skirmishers for the initiative to cover their slow advancement. Clever.

Basit had to counter to that. “Move up our infantry, we cannot allow the Lannisters to take the advantageous ground for his longbowmen. Sound the horn again!”

_Vaaarooooooooooooooooooooooooo!_

Basit could not see any flapping banners of the Black Lions anywhere in the battlefield. He must have placed them in the reserves then, or the rears. Either way, having no knowledge of sight of the Black Lions gave him a gooseprickles. The Black Lions were the utter most dangerous of the Lannister army. Basit could see with his visorscope, only the Lannister cavalry was placed in the flanks. And then from the hillside he could see…

“Fuck me, trebuchets and catapults on the hills.”

The skies of the battlefields was rained with whizzes of flying arrows and bolts, but also the firing hurls of stones from the artilleries behind the Lannister line, well positioned placed. Since Basit’s host was large in numbers, most of the hurling fiery stones landed strike into the Tyrell lines, causing some obstacles for them to move up. He also realized his knights and the Martell’s own fell back into infantry safety. Sarsfield mounted skirmishers kept their courses of firing more arrows and bolts. Lannister longbowmen and crossbowmen was in placed and fired their volleys against Basit’s and Abhishek’s.

Basit sent his archers forward after the horse skirmishers did their part and head back into their camp. The Lannisters had dealt a good amount of losses to the both the combined Tyrell and Martell. It was already getting black for the day. Two of the Lannister group was facing Basit’s own; group center and group right while the group left was facing against the Dornish host. Arrows and bolts filled the air back and forth in response. On the other side of the battlefield, he could see that the Lannister group left was charging against the might of Dorne. Condottieri and Lannister knights was in a heavy clash against Prince Abhishek’s Knights of Qorgyles and the Scorpions.

Infantries from the Lannister group left of about thirty thousand and more clashed their swords and shields heavily against dornish lines. Longbows and crossbowmen still sent volleys of arrows through the invisible air. Lannister artillery pieces still hurling flaming shots against Basit’s idle host. When he saw the Lannister group center and group right was marching down to meet the Tyrells, it was time to clash with them once more.

“This is it.” he said. “I will go there and meet the Blacklion himself. Who’s with me?” he asked to his remaining soldiers behind him.

They cheered. _“Growing Strong!”_

Basit got his courage filled and smiled. “Squire Lothor, sound the horn and come with me.”

_Vaaaroooooooooooooooooooo!_

On their horseback, they galloped down to the battlefield where the three armies had clashed; two against one. The Lannisters were outnumbered yet their morale was so high up they refused to give grounds and fought like berserkers. Basit had slew five Lannister men-at-arms and two knights himself with Rose’s Thorn. He knew that his bannermen needed the inspiration of his liege lord in the battlefield with them. So he came down to fight alongside them. He looked up and arrows and bolts dominated the air. Flaming shots from trebuchets and catapults were still firing from the hill that caused so much trouble for him, especially when they were stuck in melee fighting. He needed to find a way to silence the artillery piece.

One knight in black armor and cloak; armed with a longsword and a black shield with a black rampant lion decorated the shield. _A black lion knight._ Basit thought. He was facing him amidst the battle. He was circling around him with his shield up and his longsword pointed at him. Basit was on guard with this one. He held Rose’s Thorn hilt tighter and they both charged one against another. Basit gave a hard knocked with his valyrian steel longsword against the black lion knight’s oaken shield binded with iron. It staggered him hard but he remained his stance. He swiped his longsword across viciously but Basit flinched back every swipe until both of their swords parried one another.

He was circling him again, then charge towards him but Basit kicked his shield hardly and the black lion knight fell to the ground. He was trying to get back up until Basit stood before him and swipe his valyrian longsword across his neck and blood spurted out from his mouth and his neck. _Three knights down_. he counted. He slew a few more men-at-arms but it was fruitless to push against the Lannisters. They were gaining grounds against them and him. Basit did not give up though and continue to fight on and slew more and more until his helmet was stained with blood. He received some scars as well but it was nothing to prevent him from backing away from a fight. He was a warrior, and the Warrior had blessed him with strength and steel and courage. He was not about to give up just yet.

He continued to kill more men-at-arms and knights, until the sounds of horn the Tyrells and the Martells were afraid of. _Baaaroooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom!_

Basit looked around until he saw them, riders on black armor with their war horses. “Fuck me, it’s the Black Lions.”


End file.
